


Poisoned Paradise

by xenoglossia (oncharredwings)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: <-- the animal violence is not shiro's cat!!!, Abuse, Arson, Choking, Creepy, Dismemberment, Drinking, Fire, First Dates, Gun Violence, Hand Jobs, Hidden Cameras, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Keith is very emotionally disturbed, Kidnapping, Lies, M/M, Masturbation, Memory Loss, Murder, Past Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Self-Harm, Stalking, Surveillance, Therapy, Torture, and Shiro is too trusting, blame lightning-strikes, how many sheith canon lines can i shove in 1 fic and make them disturbing as hell, i know you're all worried about her, it's not her it's not her it's not the dog either it's a memory, mentions of animal abuse, mentions of animal violence, prepare to be frustrated with Shiro, the james griffin & shiro is very brief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-06-15 20:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 51,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15421317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncharredwings/pseuds/xenoglossia
Summary: Photography is Keith Kogane's passion – some would say his obsession. Taking photographs, curating his life experiences as his therapist says, gives him control over an uncontrollable life. Keith sets out on a new subject quickly, a subject he cannot sleep.Takashi Shirogane.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of [lightning-strikes](http://lightningstrikes-art.tumblr.com/) stalker au found on tumblr [here](http://lightningstrikes-art.tumblr.com/tagged/stalker-au). Thank you Sa for always inspiring the dark bitch in me. 
> 
> I said this was going to be in 3 parts but I'm a big ass liar so this will probably be more like 6 parts

_Click._

Photography had always been an obsession of his. Capturing everyday moments through a lens - curating his _life experience._ Life was not always within his control but holding a camera in hand and choosing which moments to capture - he could control those moments.

_Click._

His therapist told him to curate his life experience. Take control of a spiraling life he felt he had no control over. After the fire, everything had changed and he felt lost in his own life. His therapist told him to find something new to _obsess_ over - because he could never just love something casually.

_Click._

After the fire that had claimed his parents, Keith drowned himself in news articles, police reports, and the investigation until he could hardly see straight. They’d ruled it an electrical fire but Keith didn’t believe in accidents. Someone had lit his house on fire and murdered his parents.

_Click._

No one had believed him, of course, least of all the lead investigator on the case. Keith spent months obsessing over the house fire and wishing he could travel back in time to warn them. To wake up and replace the batteries in their old smoke detectors before it was too late.

_Click._

His therapist told him to take back control of his life and do something to help hurdle the obsession with his parents’ deaths. Which was how he’d found himself standing in a photography store one night, purchasing a Canon 5D Mark IV with the insurance money from the house and his parents.

_Click._

Growing up, he’d never had a professional camera. They had never had the money even for a shitty digital camera and he’d been forced to use disposable cameras throughout his childhood. His parents always regretted not buying him a real camera but walking out of the Canon store that night left him feeling vindicated. He could finally do something important with his life.

_Click._

Keith obsessed over taking photographs of his daily life but soon his daily life left him bored. His therapist suggested he go outside of his personal experience and photograph what he saw around him. So, really, if he could blame anyone for his new obsession, he could blame her.

_Click._

Takashi Shirogane. Born February 29, 1991. Twenty-six years old. Pieces. Graduate student. Wealthy. Handsome. Robotic arm. Friendly. Cat owner. Neighbor. Drives a BMW. Japanese. Only child. Gay. Recently single. Almost previously engaged. Pilot. Likes mac and cheese.

_Click._

Takashi Shirogane moved into the neighborhood a few months ago, occupying the apartment across from Keith’s. They shared a hallway and a few interests. They’d only talked a few times but each time, Keith had found himself over analyzing every sentence and word spoken. Takashi was the most beautiful man Keith had ever seen.

_Click._

No, Shiro. Takashi didn’t roll off the tongue and his ex called him Takashi. Keith wanted a new name for him. Shiro. He would have to use it a few times, out loud, to make sure it sounded correct on his tongue.

_Click._

Shiro currently stood in the dog park with a friend. Matthew Holt. Keith didn’t care about him, only when he was in near proximity of Shiro. Keith didn’t know what they were talking about but Keith didn’t care about that either. He only cared about how the sunlight dapples over Shiro’s beautiful cheekbones.

_Click._

His camera came in handy when he learned Shiro’s schedule and knew exactly where he would be throughout the day. He had so many pictures of Shiro now, he could have made a flip book. He’d even purchased a professional printer to print the objects of beauty out so he could have a mural. The new mural replaced the articles about his parents and Keith was glad to finally have something new to focus on

_Click._

Keith slowly eased his camera away from his eyes and admired Shiro from afar. He wanted to know Shiro more- his favorite color, if he were maybe looking to date again, the name of his cat. He supposed it was time to be a friendly neighbor. Keith smirked and raised his camera again to capture Shiro’s smile.

_Click._

 

* * *

  


“I’m telling you, Matt, it would be fun to _try_.”

“Yeah, maybe for you, Mr. Fitness but a 5k for me would be agony.”

Keith could hear them coming up the stairs. The sound of Matt’s dog’s collar jingling. They would stop at Matt’s door first and chat for a while and then Matt would go inside. Shiro would come around the corner soon after.

Keith sat in wait, ready to play up his distress as soon as Shiro rounded the corner. His shadow crept closer until he finally saw Shiro appear and Keith timed his next move just right. As soon as he knew Shiro could see him, Keith dropped his pile of books all over the floor directly outside of his apartment door.

“Shit,” he cursed and since Shiro was friendly to a fault, he immediately walked over to help.

“Hey,” Shiro said with a kind smile. “You know, I think this would count as a meet-cute if we hadn’t already met.”

Shiro’s deep voice brought a red blush to Keith’s cheeks and his mind wandered deep into the gutter. How would Shiro sound in bed and beneath his hands. In his control.

“Yeah,” Keith laughed softly while they picked up Keith’s library books.

“Well, _someone_ is hooked on phonics,” Shiro teases with another winning smile. “Photography, huh? Are you any good?”

Keith shrugged as they stood, balancing the books on his hip, while Shiro held the rest. Keith unlocked his apartment door and let Shiro inside. The mural was safely tucked in his bedroom so he wasn’t afraid Shiro would see.

“I’m okay,” Keith replied with a casual shrug. He set the books on the table and turned to accept the ones in Shiro’s arms.

“I bet you’re great,” Shiro said. He smiled again and Keith felt his world light on fire. “It was nice running into you again, Keith.”

“Yes,” Keith agreed. Now, he had to pounce now. “Shiro, would you like to maybe hang out sometime? I don’t know a lot of people in the building and you’ve been so nice…”

“Oh,” Shiro said with a look of surprise. “Sure. That would be great, Keith. Would you like to have dinner tonight? I can cook, we can hang out.”

Keith’s eyes lit up as he realized he would soon have a personal view of Shiro’s inner sanctum. He smiled and nodded. “I would love to.”

“Great. Come over around six?”

“Perfect.”

“See you then.” Shiro raised his hand in a casual wave and walked out of Keith’s apartment.

When Shiro was gone, Keith felt his heart skip a few beats. He had to take a deep breath to steady his excitement. He had a date with Shiro tonight. The thought of being able to lounge in Shiro’s apartment, learn every nook and cranny, where he kept a spare key- thrills ran like chills up and down his spine.

Six could not arrive soon enough.

 

* * *

 

Before six, Keith obsessed over his outfit – slacks or jeans? Dress shirt or t-shirt? Tennis shoes or dress shoes? In the end, Keith chose a more casual route with a t-shirt, jeans, and his favorite jacket. Six on the dot, Keith knocked on Shiro’s door to wait anxiously for Shiro to answer. The door opened and he was immediately greeted by Shiro’s warm, sunny smile. The smile could cure cancer and simultaneously give him cavities.

“You made it,” Shiro said. “Come on in.”

Another chill slithered down Keith’s spine as he was allowed into Shiro’s private space. The first thing he noticed was the pleasant aroma of dinner mingled with another scent – not quite vanilla but Keith was reminded of fresh baked goods. The second thing Keith noted was the cleanliness of the space. The furniture looked clean and new, the carpet seemed plush and dirt free. Every space neatly arranged and made to be homey.

“Could you take your shoes off?” Shiro asked shyly. “I don't want to track dirt inside.”

Keith obliged as he was Shiro’s guest. He peeled his eyes for signs of Shiro’s cat but maybe the animal was hiding as there were no signs of a cat anywhere. Not even cat furniture or a misplaced sign of cat fur. How Shiro kept his apartment so clean remained a mystery but Keith noted the shoe quirk for later on.

“Thanks,” Shiro said when Keith finally joined him by the breakfast bar. The place was an open floor plan, just like his own. “So, you said you don’t know a lot of people?”

“I keep to myself,” Keith replied neutrally.

“Well, I’m glad you reached out,” Shiro said which was a puzzling response.

 _Reached out_.

Made him sound like a charity case and Keith refused to be anyone’s charity case. A flash of anger mae his hands clench but he held back any immediate outbursts.

“Reached out?” Keith asked lightly. “Make me sound like I’m on the edge.”

“I’m sorry,” Shiro said and wiped his hands clean on a towel where he stood in the kitchen. “I’m not trying to psychoanalyze you – a huge misconception of psych students and psychologists in general. I swear, we’re not always trying to figure you out. I’m just speaking as someone who has dealt with depression firsthand. Just know, I’ve noticed you. I wasn’t sure how to approach you because you seem… shy and on top of that I could be _completely_ wrong and  don’t want to overstep. I apologize if I am.”

In a world full of seven billion people, Shiro had noticed him.

 _Him_.

And he was concerned which was oddly endearing. Keith couldn’t remember the last time someone who he wasn’t paying to pretend to care had genuinely cared about him.

Keith offered a smile. “I appreciate your concern but I’m fine.”

There was no need to unleash the treasure trove of mental illness Keith struggled with as a result of losing his parents on the first date.

“Well, if you ever need to talk my door is always open,” Shiro said.

The sentiment was true to Shiro’s sweet and kind nature. Keith believed Shiro would make an excellent therapist for someone one day. He would most certainly be taking Shiro up on his open door policy. In fact, the thought thrilled him.

“Do you live alone?” Keith asked. The only other person Keith had seen leave Shiro’s apartment was _Adam_ but the last Adam sighting had been a few weeks ago.

“Uh– yes,” Shiro said sheepishly. “I have a cat but um, my fiance and I broke up about two weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Keith said flatly. He wasn’t.

“It’s alright,” Shiro said with a shake of his head before coming to the breakfast bar with a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. “I hope you like pasta.”

Keith smiled and nodded. “I love spaghetti.”

“Good.” Shiro sat down beside him and at first, they ate quietly. Every now and again, Keith could feel Shiro’s knee brush his own. Each time send a wave of goosebumps along his skin.

“May I ask why you and A–.” Keith paused as he realized he’d almost slipped Adam’s name. “Um– your fiance broke up?”

“Oh…” Shiro paused in eating and ran a hand through his hair. “He didn’t support me in what I want to do.”

“Which is?”

“Well, I’m pursuing my Ph.D. in psychology right now. I want to work with troubled LGBT youth.”

Keith frowned because why wouldn’t Adam have supported something so noble and selfless? He could have used someone like Shiro growing up. “But he didn’t support that? Why?”

“Adam thinks I push myself too hard and I had to move out here… He helped me move and I thought we’d work out long distance but…” Shiro trailed off and shook his head. Bothered.

“I’m sorry,” Keith said. There was more he wanted to say – how _he_ would support Shiro’s dreams and cheer him on. How he’d do anything for Shiro to be his but even Keith knew admissions so personal, so soon, would be too much.

“It’s alright.”

It wasn’t and they both knew that.

“Well, fuck that guy,” Keith said. “If he couldn’t support your dreams, then he doesn’t deserve you – you deserve someone who _will_ support you.” He didn’t mean for his voice to become so heated but his feelings for Shiro were so strong, the emotions slipped through his usually cool demeanor.

Shiro stared at him and his face seemed to go through several different emotions before settling on pleasantly surprised. “Thank you, Keith,” he said with so much sincerity, Keith felt his heart palpitate. “I mean, I won’t be getting over him quickly but I was him for seven years. It’ll take time but your words are very kind.”

Seven years and Adam had tossed Shiro aside like trash. Keith felt a surge of rage fill him. Someone had to help Shiro let go.

“What was his name again?” Keith asked casually.

“Adam.” No last name.

“I’m sorry he hurt you.”

“Me, too.” Shiro sighed and shook some emotion away. “But it’s over now. I’m moving on.”

Keith nodded and debated on taking a deeper dive into Shiro’s social media accounts but he would have to try and hack his Facebook, probably, for further information on Adam. He wouldn’t let Adam hurt Shiro again.

The sound of Shiro’s phone ringing took them both by surprise.

“Sorry,” Shiro said, checking the call. “I have to take this. Do you mind?”

“Go ahead,” Keith said even as he loathed the interrupter.

Shiro stood and disappeared down the hallway to take the call. The apartments were identical opposites and Keith mentally mapped how Shiro’s bedroom would be on the right side of the hall while his was on the left. The bathroom would be on the right and their linen closets would be identically at the end.

Keith strained to overhear but Shiro was too quiet and he wasn’t so stupid to go down the hall to listen. Keith waited, impatiently, for Shiro to return, picking at his food. The minutes ticked by and Keith's paranoia grew – maybe Shiro was waiting for him to leave, tired of his lack of social skills already. He rose half out of his seat when Shiro finally came back, apologetic.

“Sorry about that. My grandmother was on the phone. She doesn’t speak English and she’s hard of hearing, so it’s always a bit of a struggle.” Shiro sat back down and seemed to force a smile.

Either he was a liar or something else had happened.

Keith pushed aside his own feelings of annoyance in favor of being open and inviting. Shiro should feel comfortable confiding in him.

“Did something else happen?” he asked.

Shiro’s smile faltered. “No– well, _yes_ , but it’s nothing.”

“Nothing wouldn’t bother you,” Keith pointed out, slightly annoyed Shiro was already lying to him so early on in their relationship. They would have to work on that.

“Uh– Adam was supposed to be here to wait on a delivery I have coming tomorrow. I have class and I’m worried it’ll be stolen – it’s no big deal. I’ll just skip class. I forgot all about it until I had asked Matt to do it but he can’t. I’ll just skip.”

Bingo.

Keith saw his opportunity – Shiro’s apartment all to himself – and grasped on. “You know, I don’t mind waiting. I don’t work tomorrow.”

Shiro’s eyes flooded with visible relief. “Are you sure? I wasn’t trying to ask or impose.”

“It’ll be my pleasure.” He offered his tamest smile while also making a list of equipment to pick up tonight.

“ _Thank_ you.” Shiro stood up and went to a drawer – third, by the stove – and removed a spare key. “I’m out by seve, so come over anytime after. Thanks again, Keith.”

Keith slid his fingers around the key and felt Heaven’s gates open. “What are good neighbors for?”

“You’re a lifesaver. I hate skipping class,” Shiro said and returned to his seat. “How’s the food?”

Keith picked up his fork again to twirl noodles around it. “Excellent.”

“Great. I’m really glad you came over tonight.” Shiro smiled, so pure and innocent, and Keith felt his heart soar. Shiro was glad he was over at his apartment. Shiro was glad they were starting this journey together.

“Me, too, Shiro,” Keith said quietly. “Me, too.”

  


* * *

  


“Hey, Keith!” Hunk greeted with a wave and smile from where he stood behind the counter.

The local camera store was one of Keith’s main haunts and he and Hunk had become obligatory colleagues. Some would even call them friendly. Keith wasn’t sure what to call them other than pure business. Keith approached the counter, weaving his way through the camera equipment carefully and gently.

“What can I get you today? We have a couple of new lenses you might be interested in,” Hunk said, already turning to grab a large telephoto lens and setting it on the counter.  “Brand new just came in. I think it’s even better than the one I sold you last year.”

Keith lifted the lens carefully in his gloved hands but then set it aside. He wasn’t here for camera equipment. “I’m here to buy video equipment, actually,” he said. “Surveillance. There have been a lot of break-ins in the area and I want to make sure my apartment is safe.”

“Hey, don’t blame you there,” Hunk said. “C’mon, I’ll show you a couple of kits you might want to buy to get started. Super easy to set up, I can show you how.”

“Great.” Keith followed Hunk and listened to him sell some cameras and video equipment – things he could easily conceal but still monitor his entire apartment if he wanted. Keith smiled slightly as he already mentally mapped where to place each camera – one in the living room, right in front of the couch along Shiro’s mantle, he’d never notice; one in the kitchen, high up where it was likely to pick up who came in and out of the apartment, one in the bathroom, and two in Shiro’s bedroom. The closet would be a walk-in and Keith wasn’t about to miss any action there.

“Sound easy to set up?” Hunk asked as he handed Keith the equipment to look over.

“Yes, actually,” Keith replied. “I appreciate your help, Hunk. Thank you.”

“How are you paying today?”

“Cash.” He was never stupid enough to pay with a credit card. Keith pulled out his wallet and laid down the cash needed to cover the equipment and was quickly on his way.

By morning, he would have full access to Shiro’s apartment whenever he wanted to check in. He would hear audio and watch a live feed whenever he desired. His heart thumped excitedly as he walked back to his car and checked the time.

8:10.

His face twisted when he remembered he had a late appointment with his therapist in twenty minutes. She took evening patients when necessary and he’d called to move his earlier appointment so he could have dinner with Shiro. Keith sighed and slid into his car to drive to her office where people were leaving for the evening. He walked into the office space and nodded to the secretary who smiled at him, telling to go ahead and go back. He was early by ten minutes but Dr. Balmera waited for him behind her desk.

“Keith,” she said with a warm smile. “It’s good to see you. I’m _very_ glad you didn’t cancel.”

Keith eased into the chair he usually occupied far away from her desk, looking out the window. He didn’t like to look at her when they talked. It was all too personal – too close. “I should have,” he replied curtly.

“Why do you say that?” she asked softly, already poised to take notes.

Keith glanced at her in his peripheral and wondered what she wrote about him. The notes had never bothered him before until tonight. Suddenly, he wanted to know every little thing she scribbled about him.

“It’s a waste of time,” he replied.

“Then why do you come? If you believe it is a waste of time, why bother coming at all? No one is forcing you into therapy, Keith. This isn’t court-mandated.” Dr. Balmera wrote something down and Keith felt his jaw pop.

“What do you say about me?” he asked, suddenly turning to face her head on. There was still a large amount of distance between them, almost the entire room, but he had never faced her with so much confrontation before.

“I’m sorry?” Dr. Balmera asked.

“What do you write about me? In your notes? Do you say I’m a basket case? That I should be studied? Thrown into the mental ward?” He didn’t know where the questions were coming from but they poured out in a wave of anger. He didn’t want anyone reading her notes and thinking he was insane. He wasn’t.

“Of course not,” Dr. Balmera said, folding her hands over her notebook. “I just take notes on our sessions. It’s required and it helps me help you.”

“What you write down is confidential right?” he asked, suddenly standing up to pace the room. Irritation buried itself beneath his skin like fire, biting at every neuron and nerve.

“Yes, Keith,” she said, her voice always calm with him. “You seem very agitated tonight. Did something happen?”

“I had a date,” he said sharply.

“A date? Was it a good date? Did you have fun?” She made another note.

“Yes. I had fun. He’s nice.” Keith continued to pace the room, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. “I want to see him again.”

“Did you make another date with him?”

“I’m seeing him tomorrow night,” Keith replied which wasn’t quite a lie. He would see Shiro whenever he wanted soon.

“You seem very agitated–.”

“You said that already,” Keith snapped, running his hand along the back of his neck and trying to remain calm. He didn’t know why his anxiety was spiked so high and why he wanted to yell and jump around so badly. Was he just so happy his brain couldn’t quite figure out how to let him be happy and was turning his excitement into nervousness?

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Balmera said quietly. “Are you taking your medication?”

Blue pills. Oblong. Zoloft printed on one side. 100 mg. Take once a day.

“Yes,” he said. He lied.

He didn’t like taking his antidepressants because when combined with any other concoction she had him on, he didn’t like how they made him into a lifeless zombie. On medication, he was a shell. He was no one at all. No one worth Shiro’s time.

“Good,” Dr. Balmera said with a nod, taking more notes.

He wanted to reach across the room and snatch her pen and shove it into her eye socket.

“Do you want to talk about anything in particular tonight? More about your date, perhaps?”

“No,” Keith said sharply. She didn’t deserve to know about Shiro.

“What do you want to talk about, Keith? Have you found a job? I know you said you were looking.”

“I have a job,” he replied quietly.

“That’s _good_. May I ask where you have a job now?”

“I’m a janitor,” Keith replied simply because the job embarrassed him. Top of his class. Could have gone to any Ivy League school in the country but the fire had taken everything from him.

“Where at?”

“The crematorium.”

“Oh.” Dr. Balmera paused and looked up at him, her eyes full of concern. “Keith, do you think that is a good idea to work there?”

“It’s a job,” he snapped, defensively. “Someone has to clean it.”

“Of course, I’m sorry, Keith. I just know how you feel about fire.” Dr. Balmera jotted down another note and Keith had to restrain himself from flying across the room to take her pen. “I’m very proud you found a job, that is very important and it will help fill your time. How is your photography coming? The last time we spoke, you said you were bored with it and I suggested finding a new subject. Did you find a new subject?”

The only good thing he could thank his therapist for – she led him to the beauty in Shiro.

“Yes,” he said, feeling himself relax bit by bit. “I did.”

“Wonderful. May I ask what you’re photographing now?”

“People,” he replied lightly. “Just people I see throughout the day.”

“Do you get their permission? I know it can be scary, talking to strangers sometimes but gaining permission is important.”

Another lesson she reiterated with him all the time – permission and the power of consent. She always hit home how important his _consent_ was and how he should gain _others’_ consent because everyone should have a right to consent to their life experiences. Keith clenched his jaw a few times and then plastered on his most kind smile.

“Of course,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t just follow people around and photograph them all day. That’d be creepy.”

“Of course.” Dr. Balmera didn’t laugh and he wasn’t sure he had her convinced this time which bothered him. She seemed to doubt every word out of his mouth. “How is your new apartment coming for you? I know you moved to a new floor recently – or, I’m sorry. To the newer building, right?”

Keith nodded. Six months prior to Shiro moving in – six months, three days – he had also moved into the nicer building recently built in the apartment complex he’d been living in at the time. The insurance money was just sitting in his bank account, doing no one any good, so he’d decided to allow himself one nice thing outside of his camera equipment. A new apartment. A fresh start.

“It’s fine,” he said.

“Did you adopt a cat? You kept talking about how you wanted a cat, right? To replace the one you lost in the fire? Well, forgive me, replace was the wrong word,” Dr. Balmera said quickly to cover herself. “I just meant, you wanted to adopt a new cat finally.”

Keith had intended on adopting a new cat after losing Red to the fire, too. Another loss he couldn’t quite grapple with or hurdle over. But then Shiro had moved in and Shiro had a cat. A black one. “I haven’t yet,” he replied with a shrug. “Just haven’t had the time.”

“Perhaps you can make that a weekend project. Adopting a new pet, to help keep you company,” Dr. Balmera suggested. “Have you considered an emotional support animal? I know they can be costly but I think, in your case, one might help you cope with your anxieties.”

Keith’s jaw clenched again as she painted him like some type of interesting case to study and learn. A test question. He was no one’s puzzle to figure out. “Are we done yet?”

Dr. Balmera checked the clock. “We still have about twenty minutes. Did you want to end your session early? This is your time, Keith, I won’t make you stay if you’re not ready to stay the full hour.”

“It’s late, I want to go home,” Keith said.

“I understand. You can go. I’ll have my secretary call you tomorrow to make a new appointment. It was good to see you again, Keith.” Dr. Balmera stood and offered her hand but Keith ignored her want for a handshake.

“Good night, Dr. Balmera,” he said and left her office quickly, trying to shake off the feeling of confessions and church. Going to therapy felt entirely like church and he’d never liked going to church.

By the time he walked into his apartment for the night, it was almost ten and Keith was exhausted. The video equipment sat on his kitchen table, waiting to be placed tomorrow morning. By tomorrow, he would have full access to Shiro and his every move, every conversation, and every private moment. He would learn Shiro’s habits. His wants. Dreams. Desires. Fantasies. He would become Shiro’s _perfect_ partner.

He walked into his bedroom and glanced at the mural along the wall fondly. All of tho photos of Shiro, staring at him, making him smile. Keith crossed the room and placed his fingers lightly along Shiro’s jawline, tracing the sharp line with his fingertips and wishing the photo were the real thing. He wanted to feel Shiro’s heartbeat beneath his fingers, knowing Shiro’s life laid in his hands. The trust Shiro would soon submit to him and they would be a happy, perfect couple.

“Good night, Shiro,” Keith whispered, blowing the wall a kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yL7IRngzIdk&list=PLhKkbUtNpt1kF7XTFT5IAEawb1Ku-N19W) for this au and I suggest listening while you read :)

7:15. 

Insomnia and Red Bull kept Keith awake at all hours of the night, so by morning, he was already awake and ready. He packed a backpack with the video equipment and his laptop before walking across the hall to Shiro’s apartment. 

3B. 

A good number. 

The key slid into the lock smoothly, one twist to the right had Keith whimpering as it unclicked, and he was able to open the door. Fresh baked goods welcomed him inside, dragging his feet across the threshold like some recently awakened corpse. 

_ Can you please take your shoes off?  _

Keith eased out of his boots when he remembered Shiro had a quirk about shoes in the apartment. He lined them by the door and eased his backpack onto the kitchen table. The sight of a neon orange sticky note drew his attention to the fridge. 

 

> **_Keith,  
>   
> _ **
> 
> **_Thanks again for doing this. I won’t be back until late and I’m sure you know the UPS guys are never reliable ever, so I’m not sure when they’ll show up. My number is 717.223.4782 if you could text me when the package arrives? Thanks!_ **
> 
>  
> 
> **_Also, I fed my cat already, so if she comes whining for food = she’s a liar_ **
> 
>  
> 
> **_\-- Takashi_ **

 

Keith plucked the note free and slid it into his pocket for safe keeping. 

“Here, kitty-kitty,” he called lightly, jingling his keys. “Come play with Daddy Keith.” 

The cat continued to ignore him and Keith started to doubt her existence but he’d seen Shiro bring in cat food from his car more than once. She would come out eventually, Keith understood the aloof nature of cats after having owned one. He pushed the cat thoughts away in favor of returning to his backpack and slowly easing the video equipment out onto the table. 

First, he needed to explore. 

Keith pulled his camera free, where he’d wedged it between two sweaters, to begin photographing Shiro’s apartment. He started back in the entryway and moved throughout the open space. He opened every cabinet and drawer in the kitchen, noting all of the bowls, plates, and glasses matched. 

Black and red.

A set of china existed in the small cupboard above the stove. Dusty with misuse. The fridge contained a cornucopia of contents with plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables. Organic milk – no, soy milk. No cheese or yogurt. Shiro was lactose intolerant. 

The food pantry contained so much rice, Keith found himself snorting at the stereotype Shiro presented. Rice, healthy snacks, canned goods but no guilty pleasure foods. Maybe Shiro his snack cakes even from himself. Keith closed the pantry and slowly wound his way to the living room to survey Shiro’s taste in movies. The large television sat atop a set of drawers, dark wood, and inside Keith found a trove of films and TV series, all alphabetized. 

Foreign films, comedies, dramas, action, the obscure – Shiro had it all. 

Together, their combined collection could put most movie buffs to shame. From the movie collection, Keith moved to survey a bookshelf against the wall by the living room window. Blinds pulled shut. The bookshelf – more dark wood, a matching set – contained more movies, further alphabetized. He dusted his fingers softly over their spines and a wave of heat flooded his gut and pelvis. 

Shiro’s OCD felt so endearing – he wanted to bottle it up and drink it for breakfast every morning. 

Keith slipped his tongue between his teeth as he pictured the two of them watching movies together. Keith could see where his movie collection would slip right in with Shiro’s. Fill in the gaps – horror, romantic comedies, thrillers – so seamlessly, it felt a bit like fate. 

The first camera, Keith settled on the mantle before going to his laptop to make sure the live feed was streaming. A few attempts were necessary but soon Keith could see himself sitting on the couch. The next camera he poised in the kitchen, high up, and had access to viewing the kitchen and front door. Knowing Shiro’s comings and goings would be much easier, and now he would know who visited and how often.

Living room and kitchen secure, Keith finally allowed himself to go down the hall to Shiro’s bathroom. The light switch and everything inside would be backward to his own but he was already prepared. White light flooded the room and, once again, Keith noted the cleanliness of the space. The spot seemed untouched and unused, and Keith realized his own error. 

Shiro’s apartment had an extra bathroom and his did not. 

Once he realized this was just a guest bathroom, Keith lost all interest and instead migrated toward the bedroom. He took a deep breath to steady his emotions and slowly stepped inside. The bedroom sprawled, making up much of the apartment’s square footage. The bed placed in the middle, perfectly made, with a monochrome sheet set. At the foot of the bed sat a dark wood chest, locked, and Keith pondered its contents. A flash of black made him turn and at last, he came face to face with the cat.

Black, sleek, hairless, golden orb eyes. Expensive. 

A Sphynx. 

“Well,” Keith mused. “Aren’t you interesting.”

She stared at him from her spot on the missing ca tree, her back arched and limbs frozen. Keith approached, offering his hand but her ears laid back and she hissed. He withdrew his hand as fast as he offered it and answered her hiss with one of his own. 

“I don’t like cats either, bitch,” he muttered before refocusing on the bedroom. 

No television but plenty of reading material and a tall dresser across from the bed. Again, dark wood. Keith went to the dresser to slowly ease the top drawer open. The drawer moved smoothly, no hitches, and Keith didn’t have to tug too hard. A jolt of excitement rose goosebumps on Keith’s skin when he came to see Shiro’s underwear. Each pair neatly folded. Shiro was a briefs man. 

He picked up the first pair, eyes scanning over the folds, memorizing each line. The fabric left his fingers feeling soft and he raised the briefs to his nose to breathe in deep. 

Clean. Fabric softener. Detergent. The wood of the dresser. Musk. 

Keith moaned and breathed in again. The smell tripped every synapse in his brain and he turned to sit in a chair by the window. Heat radiated between his thighs while his brain quickly deprived itself of blood and oxygen. 

Keith rolled the soft cotton in his hands, gaze unfocus and hazy. The scent imprinted into his nose and lived there - a scent he would never want to forget. 

The heat between his thighs grew, impatient now, and Keith slid his eyes around the room hungrily. The wall next to the bathroom door contained artwork of Japan. Paintings. Above the bed were more paintings of Japan. 

Homesick? 

The arousal between his thighs ached, drawing his attention back to the underwear in his hands. There was more work to do but he wanted to take his time. Enjoy this moment of being so intimate with Shiro. 

Their first time. 

Keith’s eyes finally fell on the bed and he shifted his body weight to stand up but he was startled when Shiro’s cat lept from the cat tree and landed directly into his lap like she knew his plan. She glared at him, her tail swishing back and forth in her anger. Keith returned her glare, ready to toss her from his lap but the arousal he felt earlier was snuffed out. Like fire deprived of oxygen. 

“Bitch,” he snarled at her and shoved her to the floor. She stumbled but quickly managed to dart under the bed and hide from him. Keith flipped the bed off and stood to refold Shiro’s underwear exactly as he’d had it and then close the drawer. One more camera he placed delicately across from the bed so he had a perfect view down main street. 

Bedroom camera set, Keith walked over to the bathroom and flipped the light switch and felt his heart jump into his throat. The entire apartment was so  _ clean _ and perfect and  _ beautiful _ , nothing out of place, not even signs of owning a cat with claws. The bathroom was an entirely different animal. 

Dirty towels on the floor, a litter box clearly used and need of cleaning by the toilet made the entire room smell of cat shit and piss. He shoved his shirt over his nose and saw more of Shiro’s clothes lying strewn along the floor and over the shower door. The sink needed cleaning from lost gobs of toothpaste and even the toilet needed scrubbing. Keith felt his nerves twitch and jerk – he wanted to clean so badly it was almost impossible to stop the impulse. 

But he wasn’t here to clean. 

Pushing the ugliness of the room aside, Keith set up the final camera in the bathroom so he would have a shot of the shower and toilet which while he harbored absolutely no desire to see Shiro use the toilet in the morning, there was always a chance to catch him in an intimate moment. 

Once the last camera was placed, Keith was quick to flee the bathroom and return to his backpack to dig frantically for the hand sanitizer he carried and rub it all along his hands until he felt clean again. How one man could put up a front of being so perfect and have a bathroom so disgusting, Keith wasn’t sure but he would have to refrain himself from  _ talking _ to Shiro about his awful habits. 

Keith turned his eyes to the clock and saw it was nearly nine in the morning but UPS had yet to show, giving him more time in the apartment. All of the cameras were placed so Keith casually returning to Shiro’s bedroom to sit at the desk near the window. The desktop computer he owned was large and probably expensive which either meant Keith would struggle to hack the password or Shiro was a moron who didn’t password protect anything in his own home.

Keith voted on the latter. 

He wiggled the mouse and watched the screen pop up to reveal a background so offensive he felt his jaw snap and pop. Adam’s smiling face stared back at him, looking happy next to Shiro. He’d seen Adam a few times and even had a few photos of him but seeing him so  _ happy _ made his rage spike. As Keith figured, the desktop contained no password making everything completely and easily accessible.

Google Chrome popped up quickly and Keith was soon on the path to opening Shiro’s Facebook account. No hacking needed when he could simply allow it to load up on Shiro’s own computer. The simplicity of it all felt so intentional he almost wondered if Shiro  _ wanted _ him to see everything and help him solve his little Adam problem. Of course, he also still had Adam as his computer background. 

Keith’s teeth clenched and he found himself grinding them together in anger. Why would Shiro have his  _ ex _ as his computer background when there were so many  _ other _ pictures he could choose from. If Shiro was so  _ over _ Adam and ready to  _ move on _ , why was he making their relationship so strained? Keith huffed and pulled up Shiro’s friend list, unsurprised to find Adam almost immediately. 

Adam Grant. 

Keith clicked on Adam’s profile to see if they were still friends on Facebook. His teeth gnashed together when he saw they were. He almost hit the unfriend button on Shiro’s behalf but instead took the opportunity to search Shiro’s desk for a notepad to start taking notes on Adam. 

Adam Grant. Homosexual. Born April 12, 1991. Graduate student. Six hours away. Single. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Glasses. Plain. Only child. Pets? None. IT Specialist. Linked Instagram account. Nerd.

Keith scrolled through Adam’s Facebook feed and found nothing of interest. He was about to close out when a little red balloon popped up in Shiro’s messages. His eyes grew wide when he clicked on the unread message and saw Adam was messaging Shiro. 

The rage returned full force. 

 

_ Adam: thought you were in class?  _

_ Adam: or are you being bad ;) _

_ Adam: I’m kidding _

_ Adam: I was wondering if we could talk tonight? Can I call?  _

 

Keith debated on an answer but Shiro would see the messages answered if did anything. His eyes widened again when he saw Shiro’s messages pop up, meaning he was on his phone, and not aware Keith was watching the conversation. 

 

**Shiro: adam wtf**

**Shiro: talk about what? I thought you were done talking**

 

_ Adam: Please? I just want to talk. I feel… Shiro, I feel bad, ok?  _

 

**Shiro: I’m in class**

 

_ Adam: I can call you when you’re done. 8 right?  _

 

**Shiro: Fine call me at 8**

 

_ Adam: Thanks Shiro  _

 

The private conversation burned into Keith’s retinas while he sat unmoving in the computer chair. Anger and hurt lived beneath his skin, tearing up every internal organ in his body and smashing them to bits. His jaw kept clenching and unclenching while he continued to stare at Shiro’s phone call date plans with his Ex. 

His anger continued to balloon and Keith knew he would have to take the rage out on something – someone – soon but the sound of someone knocking on the door drew him back into reality enough to give his legs strength to stand. He left Shiro’s computer, tucking the chair back where it belonged, and walked back down the hall to answer the door. The UPS delivery man stood on the other side, wanting Keith to sign for two packages which he did and accepted each of them in hand. 

His eyes flitted over the plain Amazon boxes and there were no identifying labels on the outside to know what Shiro had purchased. He took two photos of the items and sent them to Shiro as requested before turning to go into Shiro’s kitchen and pluck a small knife from the knife block. The blades were kept sharp which impressed Keith; sharp kitchen knives meant they were used. 

The first box, heavier than the other, Keith slid the knife into carefully so he could repackage the box on his own without Shiro noticing. It opened easily, the Prime shipping tape simple to cut through. He pulled the box open to inspect Shiro’s package and saw the box for an Apple iPad.  _ Fancy _ . 

The second box was not shipped by Prime and thus harder to open without making a mess. Keith worked his knife through the tape but he realized too late there would be no retaping the box and he’d already send a photo to Shiro showing the perfect package. His heart beat too fast, unsure how to work his way out of his own mistake when his eyes landed on a fat vibrator. Hot pink. Seven speeds. Ten pulses. 

A frown pinched between Keith’s brows and he pulled the vibrator’s box out of the box it came shipped inside to inspect the package further. He twisted the hot pink and black packaging in his hands, trying to imagine why Shiro would want a vibrator when he could easily have the real thing. All he had to do was  _ ask _ . Keith snorted and tossed the vibrator back in the box carelessly. He tightened his grip on the knife in his hand and a flash of blood and sinew filled his mind but he pushed it aside. 

Adam Grant would have to wait. 

Keith returned the knife to its block and traipsed over to his own apartment to find tape and supplies to fix both packages. The ipad’s box was easy to fix and he quickly set it aside but the second box, Keith knew, would take some finagling and creativity. He considered reprinting the label all over again but that would take too long and was too much work. His second thought involved dropping the box and intentionally ruining it and then sending an apology text he’d had an accident but he wasn’t sure what type of accident he would have with a box in Shiro’s own apartment. 

Keith sighed and shut his eyes, taking a moment to think. The sound of jingling drew his eyes open and he saw Shiro’s ugly cat walk into the kitchen. She meowed and jumped up onto the counter, making Keith shudder. 

Germs. 

That cat had germs on Shiro’s counter. 

“Get down,” he hissed, reaching to shove her to the floor. She growled at him and Keith tossed the box with the vibrator at her. She darted away and swiftly climbed the bookshelf in the living room until she was well out of reach but by then she’d given him an idea. Keith placed his weight on the box, not the vibrator, with one foot until it was crushed on one side and quickly send another panicked text. 

 

**→ i’m sorry your cat tripped me and i sorta squished one of your packages :(**

**→ i didn’t mean to i swear**

_ ← which one? ?  _

**→ um i’m not sure i mean i could look inside it’s kinda damaged but idk if you want me to look at your stuff**

_ ← well i ordered an ipad and something else as long as it’s not the ipad  _

**→ i don’t think so? The other package is bigger and heavier? So i think it’s the ipad**

_ ← oh thank god lol ok it’s ok! Sorry about my cat she’s kind of a rude ass  _

**→ she’s… interesting**

_ ← thanks again keith really you’re such a life saver man i owe you!!  _

**→ np shiro :)**

 

Keith ran his thumb along Shiro’s texts.  _ I owe you _ . A soft smile filled his face and he picked up the vibrator’s package to leave out on the table for when Shiro returned home. He glared at the cat one more time and gathered his stuff, his eyes flitting over to the kitchen one last time, hovering over the knife block. His hands were still shaking a little with rage but he shook his head

No. 

Too much, that would be too much, too far. 

Not tonight.

Keith eased his thoughts back to normal and finally left Shiro’s apartment, locking the door behind him. He would keep the key until Shiro asked for it back.  _ If _ he asked for it back. Until then, he would wait for Shiro to have his little date with Adam and see what exactly Adam wanted. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“I  _ don’t _ believe you because– why  _ should _ I, Adam?”

The sound of Shiro’s irritated voice launched Keith from his bed to sit at his desk, eyes glued to his laptop’s screen. Shiro was late by fifteen minutes and clearly, Keith had missed part of the conversation. 

Shiro crossed over to his living room to sit on the couch heavily. He looked so tired. Keith bit his lip and watched with great thrill when Shiro put Adam on speaker so he could set his phone down. 

“I  _ would _ have come to wait, Takashi,” Adam was saying. “Who did you have for your packages? Matt?” 

“Matt had class. I had my neighbor, Keith, come and wait. He offered.” 

Keith’s heart skipped a beat when his name passed Shiro’s lips. 

“Keith? Who’s Keith?”

“My  _ neighbor _ .” Shiro ran a hand over his face and Keith felt his pain. Adam was clearly not very bright. 

“You’ve never mentioned him before. Have I met him?” 

“ _ No _ . I– I don’t know him very well but he’s a nice guy,” Shiro said, tripping over his words. 

Adam paused for a moment. “You let a guy you barely know hang out in your apartment all day, Taka? Are you  _ stupid _ ?” 

Keith snarled. The way Adam called Shiro  _ stupid _ implied this wasn’t the first time and if Shiro hadn’t escaped Adam when he had, Keith assumed it wouldn’t have been the last. Anger boiled beneath Keith’s skin.

“What could he have done? Robbed me?” Shiro asked, his voice bordering irritable. “ _ Nothing _ happened. He’s not like that.” 

“How do you know, Taka? You said yourself, you hardly know the guy but you just let him into your place for hours? Do you like him or something?” 

“Like him? How is that your business, Adam? I don’t know him enough to like him – it’s not like that,” Shiro snapped defensively.

Keith’s feelings and ego took a blow. Shiro’s words cut right into his heart and he had to close his eyes to collect himself. He could forgive Shiro for saying such bold, hurtful statements because relationships require work. Give and take. He could forgive Shiro for this. 

“So, you don't like him?” Adam asked. 

“He’s cute, okay? Christ, Adam. Jealous, much? I don’t  _ like _ him but I have working eyes and I’m  _ single _ now, so I can think another man is cute.” Shiro’s voice was so icy, Keith shivered at the implications in his tone. Adam stressed Shiro, brought tension to his shoulders and lines between his perfect eyebrows. ASked questions he had no right to be asking. 

“I’m sorry, Taka,” Adam said, his voice softer. “I  _ am _ jealous and I know that’s my fault… I  _ miss _ you. Please, Takashi, can we meet up to talk? I’ll meet you anytime, any place. You name it and I'm there.” 

“You didn’t want to try before, so why now?” Shiro asked, wiping his eyes with his shirt. 

Keith sat on the edge of his seat, leaned in close to the screen. Even the flash of Shiro’s stomach didn’t draw his attention from being terrified of this conversation. Shiro wouldn’t  _ hurt _ him like this – he wouldn’t go  _ back _ to a man who had hurt him. 

 

“Because I go to bed and miss you,” Adam said sadly. “I wake up and miss you. Go to class and miss you…. I miss you right now and we’re talking on the phone. We were together for seven years, Taka, let’s not throw that away. We can work it out, please? I just want another chance to be a great boyfriend for you.” 

Shiro covered his face with both of his hands, his cybernetic arm a strong contrast against the other. Keith had never really noticed or cared about Shiro’s arm before – it was a part of him, yes, but it didn’t define him. 

“Takashi?” 

“Okay,” Shiro finally sighed. “Meet me Friday at Cosmic Pizza at eight. I have class until seven. I can meet you after.” 

“No,” Keith whispered, slamming his fist down on the desk hard enough to make his laptop jerk. 

“Thank you, Takashi, I’ll be there,” Adam promised. 

“I’m gonna go," Shiro said tiredly. 

“Okay. Good night.” 

Shiro picked up his phone and ended the call. Keith watched him slump backward on the couch, clearly tired and worn out from the conversation. Anger fueled Keith and he stood up to pace his bedroom.

How could Shiro go back to Adam? How could Shiro even entertain the  _ thought _ ? Their relationship was finally starting and Shiro was already threatening it – no,  _ Adam _ was the problem. Adam was the one threatening his relationship with Shiro, trying to move back in. 

Keith ran his fingers through his hair as he paced, pulling hair at the scalp. Soft whining filled his ears and for a moment he thought Shiro was crying but Shiro was in the kitchen, eating leftovers. No,  _ he _ was crying. 

Keith reached up to touch his cheeks, surprised to see his fingers pull back wet. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. Not at his parents’ funeral, not anytime recently. Not since his childhood. 

Polaroids. Pink bed. Dresses.  _ It’s okay, just smile _ . Hand holding. Pain. Blood. Crying. 

Keith gasped at the resurfacing feelings and pulled his hair harder. “Stop,” he whispered. 

Time slipped through his fingers and he didn’t remember moving to sit on the bed or dialing his therapist but soon Dr. Balmera’s voice came on the other line. 

“Keith? Are you alright?” Dr. Balmera asked. He almost believed her concern. 

“My boyfriend is going to see his ex,” he babbled out, his voice less calm than usually presented. Bordering on hysteria. 

“Your boyfriend?”

“You don’t have to sound so shocked,” he snapped. 

“Is this the same man you had a date with the other night?” 

“Yes.” 

Dr. Balmera paused and then asked, “And you are already calling him a boyfriend? Keith, we’ve discussed this before. Remember, unhealthy attachments?” 

Keith gritted his teeth and stopped pacing. “He wants to keep seeing me. He said it was okay to call him my boyfriend, I  _ asked _ .” 

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

“He’s seeing his ex though – he doesn’t know I know. I heard him on the phone. Why would he do that?” 

“Keith, I need you to take a breath, you’re panicking. Do you have your Klonopin?” 

Keith turned to walk down the hall to his bathroom and search the medicine cabinet. The insides resembled a sunburnt orange pharmacy with all of his antipsychotics, antidepressants, and sedatives. Each bottle resembled the last and with shaking hands, Keith stumbled a few times before finding the right bottle. 

Klonopin. Small pill. Round. K printed on the front. Dissolvable. 

“I don’t like taking these,” he said, his voice so small and afraid he felt alien. Every part of his body felt wrong and not his own.

“I know,” Dr. Balmera said in her calm voice. The kind of voice used on wild predators. “But I think you’ll feel better when you’re calmer. I know they make you tired–.” 

They  _ did _ make him tired. Klonopin was like a tranquilizer to his system and would quickly put him to sleep.  _ It’s what she wants. She doesn’t  _ want _ to help you.  _

“You just want me to sleep and leave you alone,” he whispered. 

“Now, Keith, you know that’s not true.” 

“If that’s not true then why would you have me take this?” He stared at the small pill in his palm and felt five hundred miles away. His body was not his own. 

“Keith, I want to discuss this with you, I promise you I do. Take half of the pill, that way, you aren’t so sleepy but you’ll feel calmer. Better.” 

“In half,” he repeated, still staring at the pill blankly.

“Yes. Just take half.” 

Keith reached to grab a small paper cup to fill with water and snapped the tiny pill in half. It felt like nothing going down but within minutes he found himself sitting on the floor, staring at the cabinet doors under the sink, his heart slowing down and his eyes drooping a little. 

“Keith, are you still there?” Dr. Balmera asked. She seemed so far away. 

“Yeah, I’m still here,” he managed slowly.

“Good. Are you feeling better?” 

“I don’t know about better.”

“Let me rephrase,” she corrected. “Are you feeling  _ calmer _ ?” 

Calm.

He could concede to feeling calmer  – no longer did he feel ready to crawl out of his skin and there were no more tears. 

“Yes,” he replied quietly. 

“ _ Good _ . Now, you’re upset because your boyfriend is going to see his ex. Perhaps, your boyfriend wants closure.” 

“Closure.” 

“Yes, so he’s fully ready to commit to a new relationship.” 

Keith nodded slowly, still tired, fighting off the urge to sleep.  “You mean to me.” 

Another pause. “To another relationship.” 

“Yeah,  _ me _ . He and I are  _ in _ a relationship.” Why did she always doubt him? Panic went but the panic was soon quickly being filled with rage.

“Keith, I just don’t want you to get your hopes up in case things do not work out with this man. You’ve only seen him a few times and I know he’s allowing you to call him your boyfriend  _ but _ the reality is, you cannot know if he is going to commit to you so early on.” 

“Are you saying someone else will come along?” he demanded, his anger pulsing like a second heartbeat. 

“No, I’m just asking to stay realistic so you’re not hurt,” Dr. Balmera said. Keith could practically see her scribbling notes. 

“You don’t know him,” he snapped.

“Arguably, Keith, neither do you.” 

Keith ended the call. 

She didn’t  _ know _ how well he knew Shiro. He knew his birthday, favorite food, he knew Shiro was lactose intolerant, about his vast movie collection, how he wore glasses sometimes, he owned a cat, he kept his bathroom completely atrocious and keeps his spare key in the third drawer by the stove. He knew  _ so _ much about Shiro and he ought to – what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t know these things? 

A better boyfriend than Adam. 

The medication left him so tired, Keith could hardly stand up, but he managed to pull himself to his feet and stumble to his laptop to check in on Shiro. 

Sleeping.

Keith closed the feed in favor of pulling up Adam’s Facebook profile; for being in IT, the idiot kept much of his profile public, including his school. 

Garrison University sister campus, Garrison College. A quick Google search told him the campus was a two-year degree school and mostly a technical campus. Keith frowned, trying to see the connection to Adam. Back to his facebook, he did further digging and discovered Adam graduated GC, applied to GU, was not accepted and did online schooling instead. 

A graduate student now at Empire University – at least, according to Adam in an EU t-shirt. Google maps told him EU was six hours away which explained the long distance issue. Keith marked the address and returned to Adam’s Facebook page for any indicators of whereabouts before Friday.

Keith scrolled comments and posts until finding an event being held tomorrow on EU’s campus. Some type of frat party; Adam listed as attending. Even better, he commented on the event’s feed. 

_ Be there by 8 sorry classes lol thanks for the invite _

Keith smirked and wrote down the address. 

“Got you,” he whispered. Warmth flooded his body. 

What kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t help Shiro with his problems?

 

* * *

  
  


Keith didn’t like guns. 

Growing up on a ranch in the deserts of Arizona, he’d been around a lot of guns in his parents’ property but he didn’t like them. 

So impersonal. 

His mother taught him the importance of knives and how to handle them properly. He’d learned to slaughter livestock quickly and humanely. Keith knew people were the same basic principle. 

He also knew, however, guns provided extra insurance and scare tactics. Everyone feared a gun in their face. 

Which was why Keith found himself at s local gun show, inspecting handguns before he had an appointment with Adam at eight that night. He listened vaguely as the seller rambled about the guns and allowed Keith to hold one.  _ Feel it out _ , the man said. 

“Feel good? Too heavy?”

Keith shook his head, surveying the weapon carefully. It was heavy but Keith had fired shotguns in the past and knew he could handle a handgun. 

“You got ID?” The seller asked and Keith handed over his license. The only good - and bad - thing about guns shows was the lax selling practices. Within twenty minutes, he legally owned a gun and 9 mm billets. He walked out of the building and stored the gun in his car, mentally reminding himself not to speed on the way to EU. 

Keith had a reservation at a hotel near the campus, and with his gun purchased and bag packed, he hit the road. Six hours, one check-in, and one more social media dive had Keith on campus, easily blending with student life. 

He farted his camera around, pretending to take photos while hiding direct facial contact beneath a black baseball cap - the same one he wore following Shiro. 

Adam Grant was easy to find - he shared too much information on social media. 

Adam left his mathematics class by 7:30 p.m. and Keith easily followed him quietly across campus. They walked by the library and student housing until they came to Greek Row. 

Right. The frat party. 

Keith watched Adam go up to a Greek house with its hieroglyphics and disappear inside. Keith snapped a few photos of the house and found a shadowy area up against a dorm building to wait. 

He figured the party would pick up and assimilating would be easy - he was certainly the right age range to be a student. 

Drunk enough, young people believed anything. 

By nine, the party grew exponentially, the music thumping the atmosphere, with myriads of students coming and going. Keith needed to go inside and keep track of Adam. He crossed the street and made his way into the house, ignoring offers of drugs, booze, and ass. He needed none of those. 

Keith kept to the outskirts of the party until he caught sight of Adam holding a red cup and talking – flirting – with another guy. Seeing Adam smile, laugh, and place his hand on another guy. Seeing Adam smile, laugh, and place his hand on the guy’s arm felt like a stab in the chest. He mourned and hurt for Shiro – Adam was a lying, disgusting weasel. Keith raised his camera, zooming in on the two of them. 

“Hey,” some girl slurred near him. “Nice camera. I wanna be a model.” 

Keith dared to look away from Adam to sneer. “Go away.” 

“Wow,  _ rude _ .” She gave him a dark look but left him alone. 

When Keith turned his eyes back toward Adam, his heart seized. Adam was gone.  _ No _ . He inched away from the wall, cradling his camera to his chest, eyes frantically scanning the room. Adam was gone. Frustration grew like an animal inside and Keith moved his way through the house but there was no sign of him.

Panic followed frustration and like before he felt tears sting his corneas until he had no choice but to leave the party entirely. Defeat tasted bitter but tomorrow was a new day and he hoped Adam would be an easy target.

 

* * *

  
  


Morning found Keith up early, glued to his laptop to check on Shiro. At 6:30 a.m., he was awake doing pushups in his bedroom. Naked. Keith appreciated the view while he also continuously stalked Adam’s Facebook on his phone. Adam seemed like the kind of stereotypical millennial to share every meal to Instagram. 

Keith watched Shiro finally stand after one hundred reps and go to the bathroom where he turned the shower on. Keith shoved more Rice Krispies in his mouth,  while he watched, eyes following his butt and penis. Shiro was  _ well _ endowed, making for promising fun later. 

When Shiro stepped into the shower, Keith turned his eyes to Facebook and like clockwork, Adam posted a photo of his morning meal – waffles with strawberries – attached was the location  _ Branford Hall, EU _ . 

Keith smirked, blew Shiro a kiss, and left the hotel to make his way to campus. Branford Hall appeared to be in the middle of campus and by the time Keith arrived, he was pleased to find Adam outside, talking to some girls in more Greek hieroglyphics. Keith sat off to the side, at a picnic table, cap low on his face, until Adam ended his conversation and started walking. 

Head starts were key, so Keith gave Adam five minutes before catching up. He walked with purpose into a large brick building labeled  _ Zarkon Memorial Library _ . Keith followed. 

Adam settled on the second floor at a table and Keith eased himself behind Adam a few tables away. The issue with following people was people were horribly boring sometimes. Keith used his laptop to hack into the university intranet – embarrassingly easy. From there, he quickly gained access to Adam’s schedule. He had class at 10:00 until 11:30 and then another from noon to 3:30. After that, Adam had a free period until 6:00. He finished class by 9:00 p.m. 

Keith regarded the back of Adam’s head while debating on how to do this when he remembered a piece of information about the surrounding area. A few searches last night had led him to an address he needed to check out. One more glance at Adam and Keith left the library and campus behind. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


13 Cable St. 

A chain link, barbed wire fence guarded an abandoned junkyard. The gate stood open, a no trespassers sign on the ground forgotten. Keith drove his car inside to park and explore. The surrounding area was labeled as a high crime by Google so Keith had a feeling the cops would never look to find a well off white boy here.

Piles of junk and garbage surrounded Keith on all sides but finding something useful was harder than it seemed. This was the perfect place to kill Adam but he needed a place to store the body. Being in the junkyard send chills down Keith’s spine – being around so much  _ filth _ made his skin crawl. 

Reminiscent to Shiro’s bathroom, Keith welcomed the gloves on his hands as he searched. The light was fading fast – if he lost another precious day with zero results, he was going to lose it. Keith began to trek back to his car when a flash of white caught his eye. 

Jutted up against a mound of car parts sat an old refrigerator. Joy filled him like a child at Christmas as he approached and yanked the door open.

Empty. Deep. Spacious.

A smirk slithered across Keith’s features and mentally mapped the route from the front gate until it was memorized. The walk back to his car contained a spring in his step. The drive back, Keith sang with the radio and he masturbated in the shower to further calm his nerves. Shiro’s name felt pleasurable on his tongue – he looked forward to tasting it again.

Speaking of, Keith checked in on Shiro while dressing in clean clothes. He was watching television – nothing unusual – but he seemed lonely. 

“I’ll be home soon, Shiro,” he promised softly and leaned in to kiss the feed. 

Loneliness was a feeling Keith understood well; the aching pain, the way it ate every other feeling alive, scraping you from the inside out, until only a shell is left behind.

Shiro wouldn’t be lonely for long, soon, he would have Keith and a warm bed. 

They would be happy. 

8:45, Keith walked back to campus and waited for Adam to leave his class. Counting down every minute was nothing short of torture but finally, the evening classes poured out and Keith stood to follow Adam quietly, the gun stored in his waistband. 

Once again, they walked across campus, this time to a student parking garage where Adam received a phone call. Keith ducked between cars, his eeys following Adam across the space, until he came to a decent looking black Audi. 

Keith walked across the garage but Adam was too absorbed in his phone call to notice. 

“I said  _ no _ , Dustin,” Adam said heatedly into his phone. “I’m meeting Takashi tomorrow night, so you can forget it. What happened last night meant nothing to me.” 

Adam was a cheater. 

Another nail in the coffin. 

“I have to go.” Adam hung up and dug his keys out of his pocket. “Christ.” 

Keith stepped around and pressed the gun to the back of Adam’s neck, making Adam freeze, his hands rising up slowly. 

“Hey, man, you can take my wallet. It’s in my back pocket,” Adam said quickly. 

“I don’t want your wallet,” Keith replied flatly. “Unlock the car.” 

“O–okay,” Adam unlocked the car and Keith opened the back door. 

“Open your door and get in,” Keith said. Adam complied as Keith followed his motions, leaving the gun trained on him. 

“D-Do you want to go to an ATM?” Adam asked. His voice trembled beautifully. 

“No. Follow my directions or I shoot you,” Keith said, his voice remaining cool and collected. 

“Okay– okay–.” 

To Adam’s credit, he followed Keith’s directions to the junkyard, only showing panic as they approached. 

“Where are we– who  _ are _ you? I just want to go home–.” 

“Don’t speak. Keep driving.” 

“Can we get in?”

“ _ Keep _ driving,” Keith growled.

Adam nodded and drove through the gate, following further instruction until Keith saw the white of the refrigerator. He had Adam park nearby. 

“Get out,” Keith snarled as he threw his own door open. “Now.” 

“Okay.” 

They both eased out of the car and Keith pushed Adam a few steps ahead. It was extremely dark with no working security lights but Keith didn’t mind. The darkness added to the anonymity of the situation. Everything seemed more sinister out here. 

“On your knees,” Keith said. 

“What–.”

“Get  _ on _ your knees or I'll blow your fucking kneecaps out!” He didn’t mean to yell but Adam tried his patience. 

“Okay– I’m sorry.” Adam sank down, hands up. “You can have whatever money you want– take my car– just  _ please _ let me go.” 

“Shut up,” Keith snapped and Adam went sheet white and quiet. The fear was palpable. Intoxicating. Arousing. 

Keith regarded Adam then– afraid, on his knees, vulnerable. A pathetic waste of air. Keith couldn’t see what Shiro had seen him. 

“You know, you’re making me do this,” Keith said, starting to pace. “If you had just left him alone, I wouldn't have to do this.” 

“Who?” Adam asked, clearly confused. 

“You just  _ had _ to try and weasel your way back in but you threw him away, Adam. You don’t deserve him.” 

Adam frowned, still confused – he really was a complete moron. “Takashi?” 

“ _ Don’t _ say his name.” Keith glared down at Adam, hating Shiro’s name in his mouth. It didn’t belong there, not anymore. 

“Who  _ are _ you? Are you – are you Takashi’s new boyfriend? He didn’t mention–.”

“ _ Don’t _ say his name!” Keith pointed the gun and Adam flinched. 

“I swear,” Adam whispered desperately. “He never said he had a new boyfriend – we– we can work this out.” 

“You  _ threw _ him away like  _ garbage _ ,” Keith roared. “And you can’t  _ do _ that to people, Adam. You can’t treat people like garbage because then they  _ grow up _ thinking they’re trash. Thinking they’re  _ garbage _ . Thinking they’re bad but you did it anyway.” Keith continued to pace. He could hear himself turning hysterical but he couldn’t stop. 

“Grow up?” Adam whispered. “Are you still talking about Shiro right now?” 

Adam’s words stopped him in his tracks and he felt his jaw pop. “Are you  _ talking back _ to me?” 

Adam flinched again. “I’m sorry–I’m sorry– Takashi used to do that to me, it rubbed off– please, I just want to go home.” 

“You’re  _ trash _ , Adam Grant,” Keith hissed. “I was going to make you suffer,  _ really _ make it hurt but then I thought about how  _ Shiro _ wouldn’t want that. And unlike you, Adam, I  _ care _ about Shiro’s wants.” 

Adam began to shake, looking smaller and fearful. “Look, man, I don’t know who you are or what you want–.” 

“I’m waving a gun in your ugly mug, you  _ know _ what I want,” Keith snarled. 

As soon as his fate seemed sealed, Adam began to cry and beg. “Please, I’ll do anything! I’ll leave Takashi alone. I won’t call again– please, I just want to home– I have a dog– parents…  _ Please _ .” 

Keith kneeled to Adam’s level to look him in the eye, his voice calm and collected again. Detached. “ Your parents won’t miss you. No one will miss you. You threw Shiro away like garbage… So, what’s what I’m going to do to you. Because that’s all you are. Garbage.” 

Adam sobbed, still begging when Keith stood up. “No, please, wai–.” 

Keith fired the gun. 

Adam’s body dropped back on the ground lifeless. Blood sprayed the ground and his glasses were knocked off onto the ground. The reverb faded and silence suffocated the scene after. Keith regarded the corpse curiously but only for a moment. He had work to do. 

Keith knelt to find Adam’s phone and wallet, stuffing them in his jacket, before grabbing Adam’s ankles and dragging the corpse to the fridge. He pulled the door open and began to finagle the body inside. It was awkward work without a second set of hands but Keith managed to stuff the corpse inside and shut the door. He stepped on Adam’s glasses on the way back to the car. 

The Audi was extremely nice but Keith dumped it outside of the new junkyard with dozens of other cars anyway. The junkers would take care of it like it was on the list and no one would see the car again. Keith grabbed Adam’s backpack and started walking a mile up the road to a gas station where he called for an Uber to take him to his hotel.

Shiro no longer had to deal with his Adam problem. No more Adam related stress. No more Adam phone calls and demanding them to meet up and rekindle a bad relationship. Keith smiled when he sat down to check on Shiro – asleep – and worked to crack Adam’s phone and laptop. 

Embarrassingly easy yet again. 

Adam’s computer was boring, mostly school work and Word of Warcraft. His phone, however, harbored a backlog of Shiro’s nudes which Keith eagerly downloaded to his computer. There were also photos of Adam’s dog, a black furry thing, and Keith felt back the dog had such a terrible owner. 

The time was almost one in the morning but he had one more job to do tonight. 

He hoped the hotel didn’t mind dogs.

 

* * *

  
  


“You’re very quiet today, Keith. Something on your mind?” 

Friday. 

Keith had toyed with the idea of sending a text from Adam’s phone to cancel his meeting with Shiro on multiple occasions. He hadn’t done it because letting Shiro think Adam had stood him up was more beneficial for him.    
  


Once Shiro realized Adam wasn’t coming, Keith would be there to sweep in and offer comfort. Good boyfriends comforted their loved ones. 

“Keith?” Dr. Balmera asked. 

“I adopted a dog,” he said offhandedly.

Thursday night – really early this morning – he’d found Adam's address and decided to help himself.

 

_ Adam’s apartment, the one previously shared with Shiro, was located in a small, quiet development near campus.  _

_ 5081 Olkarian Ave.  _

_ Keith let himself in, his eyes drinking in the space. The living room was immediately in his face right off of the front door. Medium TV, overly cushioned couch, hardwood floors, small dining room table in the corner by the kitchenette. _

_ He walked through the space quietly, not bothering to remove his boots like he would in Shiro’s space.  _

_ This was tainted ground. _

_ The bathroom was down a small hallway while the bedroom cornered beside. The dog lay sleeping on the bed when Keith came in.  _

_ Energy rushed through Keith’s system, making his fingers twitch while he took in little touches of Shiro. The marks he left behind; Japanese art, monochrome bedspread, slippers by the bed. _

_ Shiro was better than this place.  _

_ The dog finally noticed him and jumped off the bed to come to sniff Keith curiously and then wag its tail. Keith had never seen such a wolfish-looking dog but he smiled and scratched its ears, checking its tags. _

_ Yorak. _

_ What kind of name was  _ Yorak _? _

_ “I’ll name you something better,” Keith promised. He pet the dog a few more times and found his leash by the door. “Come on, let’s go home.”  _

 

“Did you? That’s wonderful, Keith,” Dr. Balmera praised. “What did you name it?” 

Keith smirked, running his fingers along his bemused lips. “His name is Adam.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the updated tags before reading
> 
> Also, Sa updated the stalker au with part 2, so please view the new art [here](http://lightningstrikes-art.tumblr.com/post/176402643574/i-will-have-you-yes-i-will-have-you-part-1)

Cosmic Pizza was busy even for a Friday night when Keith walked in at 8:30. He’d called ahead to pick up a pizza for carryout earlier and now he waited for the box to be brought out. Keith leaned back against the counter casually, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of Shiro. 

He found Shiro sitting in a booth near the windows, his eyes staring sadly out into the night. Seeing Shiro so sad made Keith’s heart shatter – he would have to help lighten the mood. 

When Keith’s pizza was brought out, he walked over, box in hand. “Shiro?” 

Shiro startled at the sound of his voice, his hand flying to his chest. “Keith, you scared me. Hey… What are you doing here?” 

“I ordered carry out. What are  _ you _ doing here?” Keith returned the question even though he knew exactly why Shiro was sitting alone in the first place. 

“Uh, well, I was waiting on someone but they didn’t show up.” Shiro sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I feel stupid… really stupid.”

“Who?” 

“My ex. Before you judge me just know that, again, together for seven years and I believed his fucking lies because I’m a sucker, I guess.” Shiro sighed heavily again and looked up at him, his eyes seeming so tired and desperate for company. “Are you gonna eat all that by yourself?”

Keith smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t say no to company.” 

“I don’t want to impose or put you out–.” 

“No, you aren’t,” Keith said quickly. “I enjoy my time with you, Shiro.” 

“Okay. Let’s go.” Shiro stood and followed Keith outside. Shiro followed him back to the apartment complex and Keith debated on letting Shiro into his apartment and if it were worth the risk of Shiro seeing his artwork. 

“Where did you want to eat?” Shiro asked as if he could read Keith’s mind. 

“Wherever you’re most comfortable,” Keith said. “I don’t mind either way.” 

“Is it okay if we go to my place? Not that– not that your place would make me uncomfortable, I just want to be able to be around my stuff, which sounds stupid as fuck out loud…” Shiro blushed and glanced at his apartment door with a look of longing Keith couldn’t quite place. 

“You don’t have to explain,” Keith said with a smile. “I understand completely. Here.” He handed the pizza over. “I have to feed my dog.” 

“You have a dog?” Shiro asked. 

“Mm, yeah, I just got him the other day,” Keith said with a smile. 

“That’s nice, I wish I could have a dog,” he said with a sigh. 

“You can’t?” 

“I’m allergic.” 

So, the dog had been a post-Takashi world for Adam. 

Meaning, Shiro had probably never seen the dog in person and Keith would find bringing the dog into their lives would be much easier. 

“I’m sorry,” Keith said, sliding his hand to Shiro’s shoulder and squeezing. “His name is Adam– not the name I picked. But I feel bad for changing shelter animal’s names, you know?” 

Shiro flinched a little but then he forced a smile. “I understand. I’m going to go inside.”

“I’ll be there soon, Shiro.” Keith watched Shiro go into his apartment before heading to his own to find his new dog, Adam, sleeping on the floor. 

Adam was an extremely lazy dog but Keith supposed he would rather have a lazy dog than one who would never leave him alone. Made taking care of him much easier.

“Hungry?” he asked and the sound of his voice made Adam wag his tail but he didn’t move from his spot on the floor. Keith frowned as he glanced at the dog, starting to regret the name choice. He didn’t want  _ Adam _ in his new life with Shiro and tripped along in his mind for a new name. 

Maybe he would just call the dog Yorak as was his original name.

“Yorak,” he called and the dog immediately sat up and trotted over to sit at his feet, staring up at him with a happy dog smile. “You like that name, huh? It’s fucking awful but fine. You can be  _ Yorak _ . Better than Adam.” He rolled his eyes at his own irony and poured some kibble into a bowl for Yorak to consume for dinner.

Yorak wasted no time and Keith left him alone in the apartment to walk back over to Shiro’s, finding the door unlocked, so he let himself in like he belonged there. A smile filled his face. Everything was falling into place so beautifully. 

“Thanks for hanging out with me, Keith,” Shiro said tiredly where he already sat on the couch, the pizza box untouched. 

“Like I said, I enjoy my time with you.” Keith slid out of his boots and walked over to sit by him on the couch, popping the pizza box open. “So, I renamed the dog.” 

“Already?” 

“I figured Adam would bug you so I named him… Yorak,” Keith said slowly. 

Shiro laughed. “Yorak?” 

“Yeah. It’s… from an old TV show,” Keith lied with a snort. “Just go with it, man.” 

Another laugh – the sound was music to Keith’s ears. “Hey, it works. I'll have to meet him sometime.” 

A thrill filled Keith’s stomach and made his heart flutter. Shiro wanted to meet his dog despite being allergic. “I’m sure he’d love to meet you, too,” Keith said, handing a piece of pizza over to Shiro. “I’m sorry Adam stood you up. What an asshole.” 

Shiro sighed and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “I really thought he’d changed, you know? I  _ really _ thought he wanted to work it out with me.” 

“Well, he’s an idiot for not following through,” Keith said. “I’d kill to have a boyfriend like you.” 

“Nah,” Shiro said with a snort, shaking his head. “Trust me, I’m not that great.” 

“You are, too,” Keith argued, immediately heated and passionate. “You’re nice, you’re smart, you’re attractive, you put others before yourself. Who _ wouldn’t  _ be lucky enough to go out with you?”

Keith stared at Shiro and studied his face. The scar across the bridge of his nose. The way his grey eyes caught the light. The long lashes framing his eyes so beautifully like perfectly placed punctuation. The dark circles beneath Shiro’s eyes a roadmap to how he needed more sleep and rest. With Adam out of his life, he would find peace.

“Well, thank you, Keith,” Shiro said sincerely. “That’s… so nice of you to say.” 

“I mean it. Every word.” Keith shoved half of his pizza slice into his mouth before he said too much. Sometimes, he took his therapist’s advice. 

“You’re… such a nice guy, Keith. I’m glad we’re becoming friends,” Shiro said and Keith was touched by his honesty. 

Keith smiled but a flash of black darting up onto Shiro’s lap startled him. His eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of Shiro’s cat, ruining their moment, and taking up Shiro’s attention. 

“Hi, Black,” Shiro greeted, petting her ears softly. “Were you lonely?” 

Black purred and settled on Shiro’s lap like she enjoyed digging under Keith’s skin. Keith reached out his hand to let her sniff but her ears flattened back against her skull and she hissed. 

“Black!” Shiro gasped, completely scandalized. “I’m  _ so _ sorry, she’s not usually like this. What’s wrong with you, huh?” 

“Maybe she can smell Yorak,” Keith offered even as he gave her another darkened look. 

“Maybe,” Shiro conceded. “Sorry about her. She’s really usually very nice. Stop being rude, Black, Keith is our friend.” 

“That’s right,” Keith said. “Friends.” 

“God,” Shiro sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I have this huge test to study for coming up and I’m… so fucking nervous.” 

“What kind of test?” Keith asked, genuinely interested in Shiro’s life. 

“So, basically, we have to go to our professor and treat her like a client. It’s like a test on diagnosing real patients and running real sessions. I have to ask questions and respond to real-time answers,” Shiro said. “And trying to study for that is hard, you know? Because I don’t  _ have _ someone else to practice on. Anymore.” 

Keith didn't like therapy. 

He didn’t like the prying questions and trying to psychoanalyze his life but he did like Shiro and he did want to help Shiro out. Besides, what could Shiro  _ really _ find out about him his therapist didn’t already know? 

“You could practice on me,” Keith offered slowly. “I mean, it’s just for the test right? It’s not like you’re  _ really _ trying to… analyze me or something.”

“Are you sure?” Shiro asked, his eyes widening. “Because I’d have to take notes and stuff– but it’s just for practice, it’s not like I’m going to be sharing them or anything. I would  _ really _ appreciate your help, I just don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to do.” 

Red flags kept going off in Keith’s head but he pushed them aside. This was Shiro and Shiro needed his help. He would do anything for Shiro. 

“Sure, I’d love to.”

“Wow, you really are a lifesaver, Keith.” Shiro smiled and reached to turn the television on. “I have some time tomorrow, we could hang out here and I could prepare some questions. We’ll just sort of run through a mock session, it can be about anything you want.” 

Keith nodded. “I go to therapy, I’m used to it,” he replied casually. 

“Nothing wrong with therapy,” Shiro said. “Everyone needs help sometimes and there’s nothing wrong with that. I think there’s a huge stigma in mental health. Like, people automatically think you’re “crazy” if you go see a therapist on a weekly basis but that’s completely ridiculous and honestly? It’s also dangerous and damaging. Makes people who really  _ need _ the help feel as if they can’t ask for it.” 

Hearing Shiro be so passionate about mental health made Keith stare at him as if he hung the stars in the sky because in Keith’s eyes, Shiro was the universe and everything good in the world. Shiro was smart and kind and made of such  _ goodness _ . Pure in ways only found in baby animals, Shiro made Keith feel as if sunshine constantly radiates down on him. 

“What?” Shiro asked, blushing. “Do I have something on my–.” 

Keith leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Shiro’s lips even as his brain told him to hit the brakes. He felt Shiro freeze and when there was no returned kiss, Keith yanked backward and realized his mistake.

_ Remember, unhealthy attachments? _

“Keith…” 

Keith touched his lips. They burned, seared by Shiro’s lack of returned affection. He went to apologize, spit out words of explanation but instead, he stood and left Shiro’s apartment. HIs hands and body began to shake as soon as he pulled open the door of his own and stood on the other side, breathing hard, his eyes shut as he realized what he’d done. 

He’d messed up.

Shiro wasn’t ready for him to be so strong in his feelings and Keith was usually careful to keep his impulses reigned in. He dashed to his laptop and turned on the live feed to survey Shiro and what he was doing.  _ Probably laughing at you or brushing his teeth to clean out your black mark on his skin _ .

The live feed, however, was empty of Shiro and panic filled him until a knock came on his door. Keith frowned, slowly leaving his bedroom to walk down the hall toward the front door, stepping carefully through the space. 

“Keith?” Shiro called. “Keith, please open the door.” 

The door felt like the only safe haven keeping him from a harsh reality and he wanted to hide behind it until he rotted away into the floorboards. 

“Please, we can talk about this,” Shiro said again, his voice soft and gentle. 

Keith took a deep breath and dared to crack his door open just a hair, only enough to see Shiro standing there, holding Keith’s boots in hand. He’d forgotten about his shoes. 

“Hey,” Shiro said, smiling softly. “Look, um, it’s not that I don’t find you attractive because if I'm honest, I really do, it’s just super soon after my breakup and… I’m not  _ ready _ to jump back into a relationship with someone new. But I appreciate your kindness and I appreciate where you’re coming from.” 

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Keith whispered softly. “It was an accident.”

“That’s okay,” Shiro said. “I’m not mad. Flattered, but not mad. I brought you your shoes in case you don’t want to come back and hang out some more… but you can, if you want. Only if you want.”

Keith slowly eased his door the rest of the way open, looking Shiro over, and seeing how kind he was as a person. “I’m not the best around people,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to talk to them or interact properly with them.” 

“Well, that’s okay,” Shiro said with a little shrug. “People are difficult creatures and not everyone's the same. That’s why I love psychology. It’s fascinating.”

“You’re nicer than my actual therapist,” Keith said with a soft snort, slowly accepting his boots. “I think… I’ll stay in tonight. I should… stay with the dog.” 

“Sure. I’m glad you came over for a bit. I’m glad you let me talk to you and get stuff off my chest, I really appreciate it.” Shiro offered one more smile and turned to go back to his apartment. 

Keith wanted to call out to Shiro, to ask him to come in, to stay with him, to talk some more but the words wouldn’t come. Shiro went back to his apartment and he was left alone in the hallway. Shiro didn’t say when they would see each other again but Keith hoped for tomorrow. He desperately wanted to go to bed with Shiro, lie down on his sheets, and watch him sleep. See how he breathed slow and calm when finally at peace away from thoughts of Adam and his awful negativity. 

Keith eased back into his apartment, shutting and locking the door in Shiro’s wake. Yorak was asleep which didn’t surprise him but Keith went back to his room for privacy anyway. The laptop showing Shiro’s live stream sat open when he came into the room, slowly undressing down to absolutely nothing, to sit at his desk and watch Shiro’s evening. 

Shiro currently stood in his bedroom, also undressing, stripping his shirt over his head and kicking his pants off to the side. Keith sat at his desk, hand slowly sliding between his thighs to palm himself, his arousal growing just from watching Shiro go about his evening routine. 

Piss. Wash hands. Brush teeth. Wash face.

Shiro left the bathroom and tiredly walked back to his bed where he leaned into his nightstand to withdraw the offensive pink vibrator. Keith’s eyes trained on the toy as Shiro dragged the soft silicone against his inner thigh and then against his pelvis. The sound of it softly buzzing soon filled the room and Shiro stretched out on his bed, arousal growing and hardening between his thighs. 

Keith followed suit, wrapping his hand tightly around himself as Shiro did in turn. Keith leaned in closer to the screen, matching Shiro’s pace stroke for stroke, his eyes focused on the ugly vibrator. Shiro rubbed the vibrator along the head until it wept at the tip and Keith heard Shiro moan softly. The sounds following made Keith gasp and he knew this would be a quick night. 

Shiro’s thighs spread wide on the bed as he tense, not even moving to grab lubricant or push the vibrator inside. He only rubbed the toy on his head and length, making the member twitch and jerk. Shiro’s moans grew louder and louder until Keith could practically envision them coming from his own bed. He shut his eyes briefly, envisioning Shiro stretched out on his bed, watching and waiting for Keith to join. A broken cry left Keith’s lips as he spilled, hot and thick, over his hand and chest.

Shiro was still pleasuring him and hot shame filled Keith to his core when he realized how quickly he’d finished. He turned away from the screen to grab tissues to clean up, still half listening to Shiro moan. The vibrator’s intensity raised a few notches and Keith turned back around in time to see Shiro’s orgasm. The lift of his hips, his thighs tensing, and the mess arcing in the air. 

Keith moaned. 

He wanted Shiro to stretch out on his bed and pleasure himself for his eyes. He wanted Shiro to love  _ him _ . Not his toy. There would be no need for toys when Shiro finally found his place here. 

Keith panted along with Shiro as he shakily let the vibrator fall onto the bed and his thighs fell open uselessly. Keith desperately wanted to walk across the hall to Shiro’s apartment and help him clean up. Make him happy in his afterglow. 

He didn’t remember standing up or going to his backpack to remove Shiro’s spare key. He stared at the apartment key and truly debated walking over. He went so far as to cross the hallway, still naked, and press the key into the lock. One lock click and he could be inside, stretching out beside Shiro while he rested. He could watch over Shiro all night and kiss his nightmares away. 

He could be the boyfriend Adam wouldn’t.

The sound of someone coming up the stairs in the stairwell drew him out of his fantasy and Keith darted back to his apartment before someone could find him naked outside of Shiro’s door. Keith leaned back against the closed door, his heart galloping away in his chest, eyes slowly closing. His arousal rushed outward like a light being snuffed out, leaving him cold and tired. Keith stumbled back to bed, saw Shiro was asleep and decided to follow his lead.

Tomorrow, he would be assisting Shiro with a test and he wasn’t sure where their conversation would go. He had so much he could say but there was only so much he knew he could share. Balancing acts. 

Therapy was always a large balancing act.

Keith glanced at the pictures on the wall, blew them a soft kiss, and let his eyes drift closed. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“I like to usually start asking about your day,” Shiro was saying while Keith sat in a chair, not facing Shiro, just like he truly sat in a real session. 

Keith stared out the living room window of Shiro’s apartment, going over his view of the street below and the trees. People passed by down below, walking their dogs, holding hands, and sharing private moments. He had to work tonight. 

“Keith?” 

“I had a nightmare last night so I didn’t sleep well,” Keith replied, his voice detached as he thought back on waking up sweating and panicked. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, did you want to discuss the dream at all?” Shiro asked, his voice calm and collected. Soft. 

Keith tilted his head and peeled some of the blinds back, watching people quietly. “I dreamt about the fire,” he said. 

“The fire?” 

“My parents' house burned down a few years ago. They died.” 

“Oh… I’m... I’m really sorry to hear that, Keith.” Shiro had his iPad on his lap and he was busily taking notes with a digital pen. “Were you at the house that night?” 

Keith paused and let the blinds clank back against the window sill, turning his eyes over to Shiro at last. “They couldn’t get out. They weren’t even supposed to be home.” 

Shiro’s face turned soft and sad. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m sure that was very hard for you. What else happened in your dream?” 

Keith looked away again, feeling himself slip away. He felt as if he were floating over the scene, watching himself speak to Shiro and not be able to control his sentences. “I was walking in my house and I went up the stairs and down the hallway of the second floor… I could hear a camera snapping photos.” 

“Was the house on fire then?”

“No. Not yet.” Keith ran a hand along his mouth, toying with his bottom lip absentmindedly. He’d never really gone into detail of his nightmares with Dr. Balmera but Shiro’s voice made everything so easy. “I followed the sound and I approached the stairs to the attic. I went up there and I saw a bed.” 

“A bed?” 

Pink. Small. Bloody sheets. 

“Yes,” he whispered. “It was small. A child’s bed. The sheets were bloody.” 

“Bloody? Bloody from what?” 

“I don’t know.” Keith shook his head, shutting his eyes at the emotions gathering dangerously behind his eyelids. “I found a Polaroid camera on the bed and I picked it up. There wasn’t any film left but there were all of these pictures all over the walls. Like a mural.” 

“What were the pictures of?” 

Pink dresses. White thighs. Pain. 

“Keith?” Shiro asked slowly. “What were the pictures of?” 

Keith swallowed a lump forming in his throat and shoved his tears aside. He allowed the numbing feeling to return and felt his body shut down. The next words were robotic, cold, and he wasn’t even sure he was the one speaking them. “A child. A young child. A boy in a pink dress and a princess crown. The dress was torn and bloody. He had a bruise over his right eye. His thighs were pale and open. Blood where he sat on the bed. He was crying.” 

“Fu- um, do you know who the child was?” Shiro asked, his voice slightly taken aback. Maybe he wasn’t prepared to hear such heinous acts. 

“Me,” Keith whispered. 

Shiro paused and set aside his tablet, leaning forward with his hands clasped together between his knees. “Keith, we don’t have to talk about this if it’s too hard,” he said gently. “I’m sorry if I’m going too deep into your past so early on or making you discuss something you don’t want to.” 

Keith opened his mouth to state he was fine but he wasn’t even sure why he was telling Shiro all of this information. He had yet to discuss his childhood in detail with Dr. Balmera despite having been seeing her regularly for two years. Something about Shiro made him feel safe – as if he could share everything with Shiro and Shiro would keep all of his secrets safe. 

“It’s just a dream,” he replied.

“Yes, well, sometimes dreams can be our windows into reality… Are you sure you want to go on?”

Keith wanted to stop talking but the words were falling out and he had no way to hit pause. “After I saw the Polaroids, I turned around and there was a man hanging from the ceiling. I didn't see his face but I know he was dead,” Keith said quietly. “I went back downstairs and found another man. He was dead, too. Shot in the back of the head. I don’t know… I don’t know who they were or what happened. But then I smelled smoke and I was trapped in the house. I could hear my parents screaming from the bedroom so I ran back upstairs to try to help but the fire was everywhere. I couldn't save them. That’s when I woke up.” 

Shiro took a moment to breathe and digest Keith’s words, running a hand along his chin thoughtfully. “Do you think some of the dream elements are repressed memories?” 

_ They aren’t repressed _ , Keith wanted to say. He could remember every moment of his uncle and cousin snapping photos of him in pink dresses. He could remember the pain of their forced bodily violation. He could remember every tear he shed in the attic while his parents worked. The way the attic became so hot in the summertime, the way the dresses were itchy fabrics and made him sweat, and the way he had no choice but to force a smile on his face while he sat still on the bed. 

“I don’t know,” Keith lied with a shrug. “My parents didn’t abuse me.” 

“Usually, dreams of such a stark nature have some truth to them,” Shiro replied slowly. “The other two men in your dream, you didn’t see their faces?” 

He knew who the dead men were – he knew exactly who they were but Shiro didn’t need all of that information. Better to lie. 

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. 

“Do you think those two men hurt you in your past? Your real life?” 

_ Yes _ . “I don’t know.” 

Shiro didn’t say anything else, just writing away on his iPad. “Have you had this dream before? Or other similar recurring dreams?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay. How about we talk about your childhood a little bit? Where did you grow up?” 

“Arizona,” Keith said. “We had a ranch.” 

“Is that the home that burned down?” 

“Yes.” 

“Who lived in your house with you?” Shiro asked which seemed so innocent a question but Keith knew where Shiro was going. 

“My parents,” he said evenly. “My cat, Red.” 

“Did anyone else live with your or have access to your house while you were growing up?” 

Keith glanced Shiro in his peripheral, seeing him sitting still, hands folded over his lap, while the iPad balanced on the arm of the couch. Keith wondered if they should have switched places with him on the couch and Shiro in the chair. Shiro had even dressed up in a dress shirt and slacks as if he really were on the job. Black rimmed glasses perched on his nose. Keith liked Shiro’s glasses. 

“My uncle and my cousin,” he finally admitted. “They didn’t live with us but they came over a lot.” 

“Did you like them coming over?” 

“No.”

“Why?” 

“Because my uncle was a piece of shit asshole and my cousin was mean to my cat,” Keith said angrily. “And my other animals on the farm.” 

“How so?”

Keith shuddered as he remembered all of the animal abuse he’d witnessed in the barn. “Sometimes they’d slaughter the animals really cruelly. Cut their heads off. Torture them. It was disgusting.” 

Shiro took a deep breath, slow and deliberate. “Did you ever help?” 

_ "Help _ ?” Keith frowned, unsure what Shiro was implying. 

“I apologize, let me rephrase the question. Did they ever  _ make _ you hurt animals?” Shiro picked up his iPad again, poised to take notes. He wanted to point out seeing Shiro about to take notes made him want to clamp down hard on the truth and not budge an inch. 

“You shouldn’t poise yourself about to take notes on my answer,” Keith criticized. “It makes me want to lie to you.” 

Shiro blinked in surprise, glancing at his iPad, and then setting it aside. “I’m sorry, Keith, I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.” 

“To answer your question, no, I never was forced to kill any animals but I had to watch. They made me stand in the barn, hot in the summer, sweating and watching them take heads off of chickens and goats. They told me if I told my parents, they’d do the same thing to me.” 

Shiro’s fingers twitched, clearly fighting the urge to jot something down. “Did you ever tell your parents?”

“Would you have? I was five years old, terrified out of my fucking mind, and I really believed they would kill me, too. So of course not, I didn’t say anything to them ever. About anything they did.” 

Shiro nodded slowly, his thumbs twiddling a little. Probably to keep his mind from being so blatant with his notes. “There was more beyond the animal torture?” 

Keith snarled, his lips curling when he realized he’d said too much. Shiro was too easy to open up around; words spilled out of him like an un-cauterized wound, flowing freely from his mouth with no abandon. He had to be more careful. 

“They were abusive,” he said which wasn’t a lie but wasn’t quite the truth either. “To me, to my pets, to everyone around them. They were awful men.” 

“Why did your parents let them come around?” Shiro asked. “Since they were so awful to you?”

“They didn’t know. They could  _ never _ know. I was too afraid of the consequences to tell.” Keith felt a chill run down his spine when he remembered his uncle, leaning in close, breath stinking of stale coffee and cigarettes, whispering in his ear about how he would gut his father and feed him his internal organs if he spoke any ill words against him or his cousin. The fear had made him piss his pants and he’d been immediately mocked by his cousin for being such a baby. 

“I see. So, in your dream, you said you tried to save your parents but you weren’t able to, is that right?” 

“Yeah.”

“Where were you the night of the fire?” Shiro finally picked up his iPad to start writing a few things down. Probably a backlog of what he’d been repressing. 

Keith felt his skin turn cold and his palms were sweaty. He dragged them across his jeans but they still felt sweaty and sticky. “I was out,” he said quietly. “They ruled it an electrical fire but I know that’s not true.”

“You know what’s not true?” 

“It wasn’t an electrical fire. Someone lit my parents’ house on fire and murdered them.” He still believed, with his dying breath, his parents were murdered and there were no accidents. 

“So, you believe your house was an arson case?” 

“Yes.” 

Shiro frowned and ran his pen along his lips slowly, head down as he went over his notes. “Keith, you know, sometimes when a traumatic event happens and there are survivors involved, this can lead to what is called survivor’s guilt. Have you heard of it?”

Keith sighed tiredly. Of course, he knew all about survivor’s guilt. Dr. Balmera claimed the same exact diagnosis. “Yes,” he said, his voice short and sharp. “I’ve already been told I have that by my real therapist, and  _ I’m _ telling you, someone murdered my parents.” 

“Did anyone else die in the fire that night?” 

“My uncle and cousin. They both died, too,” Keith said. “And my cat.” 

“So, everyone was in the house and you were out?” Shiro asked slowly. 

“Yes, I was out with friends,” Keith said with a shrug. “It was late, I was having a good time.” 

“I understand.” Shiro nodded, refocusing his attention on Keith fully. “That must have been extremely hard for you. To lose your family so cruelly and quickly. Is that why you moved out here?” 

“I wanted to get away,” Keith admitted. “The investigators wouldn’t listen to me, so I left Arizona to start over. I had to start over. A fresh start.” 

“I completely understand. Sometimes, a fresh start is really all you need. So, I know you like photography. Does that help you cope with the loss of your family?” 

Keith noted how Shiro kept saying the loss of his  _ family _ and not just his parents. Clearly, Shiro felt he missed his uncle and cousin, too, which was not the case. He was glad they had died in that fire. If anyone deserved death, they were strong candidates. 

“I guess,” he said, shrugging. 

“What do you photograph?” 

“People. My life. Whatever I want, I don’t know.” Irritation began to form under Keith’s skin and he suddenly regretted agreeing to do this for Shiro. He didn’t want to end up resenting his boyfriend over something so trivial as a test. 

“Did you want to stop? You seem upset,” Shiro said, his therapist voice gone, replaced with his regular voice. “I’m sorry if I was pushing too hard.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Keith said, which was also a lie but a lie he could tell easily. “I told you I would do it.” 

“I mean, you’re really helping, even though I’m sure this is hard to discuss. We can take a break or end the session here. I have lots to work with and I really appreciate the help.” Shiro put the iPad aside. “But I do want to say, Keith, I think what… what you’re describing to me, sounds a bit like repressed memory and I’m not saying to go dig them up but maybe discussing this with your therapist, she could help you cope.” 

Dr. Balmera didn’t like helping him. No one liked helping him. 

“Thanks, Shiro,” he said and rose to his feet. He needed to leave the apartment before his uncle and cousin tainted his experiences here. “I’m going to go.” 

Shiro stood, as well, nodding. “Sure. Do you want a hug?” 

Every part of his body wanted to allow Shiro to fold him into his strong arms but he knew if Shiro wrapped any part of his body around him, Keith would break and he didn’t want to have a mental breakdown in Shiro’s living room. 

“I’m fine, thank you.” He stepped away from the chair in the living room and crossed over to grab his shoes and walk across the hall back to his apartment. Yorak greeted him by the door but Keith ignored him in favor of storming down the hall to his bedroom to immediately sit in front of his laptop. 

Shiro sat on the couch, writing furiously on his iPad. The sight of Shiro taking copious notes infuriated him because he wanted to know exactly what Shiro was saying about him. Partners did not have secrets from one another and he didn’t like seeing Shiro keeping secrets. Especially when those secrets were  _ about _ him. 

The anger and irritation he felt earlier resurfaced and Keith stood up to pace around his bedroom, trying to still his racing mind. He had Klonopin in the bathroom but he didn’t want to sleep. He just wanted to go back to ignoring all of the awful things done to him as a child. He wanted to go back to shoving them into the back of his darkest and deepest of closets. 

The sound of Shiro talking turned him back to the computer screen and he saw Matt come into the apartment. Keith frowned but finally went to go sit down to see what they were going to talk about. 

“Studying?” Matt asked his eyes on Shiro’s iPad on the couch. 

“Hm? Yeah. I asked Keith to be my like fake case study,” Shiro said and slowly sat down to review his notes again. 

“Keith?” 

“My neighbor.” 

“ _ Oh _ , Keith. Got it, got it. How did  _ that _ go?” Matt asked with a snort and he sank down on the opposite end of the couch. Keith frowned at Matt’s implications. 

“It was fine. I think… I’m not sure, what I think, actually.” Shiro set his iPad aside and place his hand over his mouth thoughtfully, a frown creasing his brows together. 

“What do you mean?”

“He told me his parents’ house burned down a few years ago and he had this recurring dream about it. In the dream, the house starts out fine but he goes upstairs because he can hear a camera going off. He said he finds this… bed. A child’s bed with bloody sheets.” 

“Holy shit.” 

“It gets worse. He… he finds pictures of himself. In a dress. Bleeding between the legs and then he turns around a man is hanging from the ceiling. Dead. He goes downstairs and he finds another man shot in the back of the head. Dead. Then he said the house catches fire and he goes up to save his parents and can’t.”

Matt whistled, his eyebrows raised high on his forehead. “So, what you’re telling me is, Keith was abused as a kid and he possibly fucking lit his house on fire?” 

“I don’t know,” Shiro whispered. “I’m not his real therapist. I have no idea.” 

“Was that all you talked about?” 

“He said his uncle and cousin used to make him watch them torture and kill animals. He had a messed up childhood but didn’t we all in some, weird, and strange way?” Shiro asked but Matt snorted again. 

“I didn't. My childhood was fuckin’ normal, thanks. Look, if you think the emo boy in 2B is a danger to himself or other people, you  _ have _ to report that,” Matt said firmly. “Do you think he’s a danger to himself or other people?” 

“I don’t  _ know _ , Matt. I’ve only spoken to him once and he left pretty upset, and it’s not like I can just start asking him personal questions about his life without his permission.” The distress in Shiro’s voice and on his face made Keith feel a taste of distrust enter his mouth. It rested bitter on the back of his tongue near his throat. If he wasn’t careful, he would start to choke. 

“Okay, sorry, no more talk of the emo kid– what about you and Adam? Did you meet up on Friday night?” Matt asked, nudging Shiro’s ribs to draw his attention. “Or did you  _ meet up _ , Friday night?” 

Shiro rolled his eyes and shook his head. “He stood me up.” 

“He  _ what _ ?” 

“He never showed and I haven’t heard from him since. I don’t know what happened to him but it’s fine. We’re over, we’re done, he’s a fucking liar, I’m over it.” 

“Shiro, it’s okay to be upset,” Matt said, resting his hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “I know you loved him.” 

“I don’t anymore.” Shiro shook Matt’s touch away and stood up. “I have a lot of work to do, Matt, so what exactly did you want?” 

“Wanted to know if you wanted to come out tonight, stop being a shut-in, and let’s go do something fun. Go bowling or something, I don't know. Bring the emo kid.”

Shiro snorted and laughed a little. “His name is Keith. Not emo kid.” 

“C’mon, admit it, he looks like he  _ totally _ had an emo phase in high school and never quite grew out of it.” Matt laughed and Shiro joined in. 

Keith’s fingers twitched as he watched Shiro laugh at and make fun of him. The hurt of Shiro’s laughter echoed in his chest and not even the prospect of going bowling with Shiro could make up for his hurt feelings. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll invite him but  _ only _ if you call him by his  _ name _ ,” Shiro said, still giggling. “Fuck, every time I look at him now, I’m just gonna think of that. Emo boy. You’re  _ awful _ .” 

Matt grinned and did a mock bow. “Thank you, thank you, I’m here ‘til seven… Anyway, bowling tonight at eight? It’s adults only night and I know we love that.” 

“Sure. I’ll meet you there and see if Keith wants to join,” Shiro said. “Do  _ not _ tell him we talked about what he told me today.” 

Matt pretended to zip his lips shut and Keith felt the serious urge to make that happen permanently. “Sure thing… I bet emo boy has a big ass crush on you, too, Mr. Jock.” 

Shiro blushed and ran a hand along the back of his head. “He kissed me the other day.” 

Tears filled Keith’s eyes but he didn’t let them fall.

“He did  _ what _ ?” Matt laughed again, so much this time he had to remove his glasses to wipe his eyes. “Oh my  _ God _ , put socially inept on his notes because  _ wow _ .” 

“I know… It was… I think his heart’s in the right place, he’s just… Clearly not used to social cues.” Shiro snorted and chuckled. “It’s okay. It wasn’t that big of a deal. I just don’t want to give him the wrong idea. I mean, despite his…  _ emo _ look, I think he’s really cute, I’m just not ready to jump into a new relationship.” 

“I can’t believe he fucking kissed you.” Matt laughed again and Shiro couldn’t help but join in. They both sat on the couch and laughed until their sides were hurting and they were both crying. 

Keith cried, too. 

He stared at Matt’s laughing face and felt his anger boil inside. He’d never cared about Matt before but Matt had never been a problem until now. Shiro laughing at him, having fun at  _ his _ expense, hurt so badly he wasn’t even sure how to breathe. The laughter spiraled him back to school and how often he’d been made fun of growing up and how cruel people could be because he  _ was _ socially inept as Matt so cruelly pointed out. He’d never had friends growing up. 

How could Matt Holt know he had to watch his family torture animals and then turn around and laugh at him as if he were a walking joke? 

Tears slipped down Keith’s face and he had no idea how he and Shiro would cross this bridge. 

Their relationship was damaged and Shiro wouldn’t even care

Shiro didn’t care about him either. He was just a charity case for Shiro to pity and giggle over with his friends. Tears kept rolling hot down his cheeks and Keith stood, storming down the hallway to his stove to turn on the burner, watching it grow red hot slowly. When the burner was glowing, Keith leaned his arm onto the hot surface until he screamed, falling down to the floor to stare at his burnt flesh. 

Now, at least, his tears could be warranted. 

  
  


* * *

 

“Hey, Keith.” 

Shiro’s smile, brilliantly white and warm, was the first thing Keith noticed when he opened the apartment door. Keith stood still and quiet, looking up at Shiro blankly. After being laughed at and crying for a few hours, he’d decided to try and let it all go but his feelings were still completely bruised. No amount of smiling Shiro would help. 

“Shiro,” he said, unable to stop his voice from sounding so icy. His arm throbbed at his side, despite being wrapped in a bandage and hidden by long sleeves. 

Shiro’s smile faltered and then fell away. “Uh… I was here to see if you wanted to go bowling with Matt and I?” 

His initial instinct was to say  _ no _ but if he went with Matt and Shiro tonight, he could start to case out Matt and find out how much of a problem he was becoming. Shiro had never mocked him before until Matt opened his big mouth. Clearly, Matt was the asshole in the situation. 

“I guess.” 

“Are you okay? You seem mad.” 

Keith looked Shiro over and slowly stepped aside to allow him into his apartment. “I’ve just had a long day.”

“Look, if you’re not up for this…” Shiro stepped inside and Keith shut the door behind him, turning the lock. “I completely understand. I know we had a rough start earlier, I’m still really sorry about that. I shouldn’t have had asked about your dream–.” 

“It’s fine, Shiro,” he replied even though he couldn’t ease the coldness out of his voice. 

Yorak came down the hall and Shiro paused, looking him over but soon he was smiling and holding out his hand for Yorak to go sniff. “Is this Yorak?” he asked, petting his fluffy ears, even as he already started to sneeze. “He’s–  _ achoo _ ! Cute… Kinda looks like my ex’s dog.” 

Keith froze, his heart seizing a bit in his chest. “Adam’s dog?” 

“Yeah.” Shiro laughed and sneezed again. “Probably the same breed. I never got to meet his new dog, he adopted him  _ after _ we broke up but I saw one picture on Facebook once… Don’t judge me, I’m still friends with my ex on Facebook. I know, I know,  _ bad _ .”

“Did he ever call you again?” Keith asked, his eyes on Adam’s cell phone sitting on the bottom of his backpack. He needed to take it into work when he went in later. Destroy all evidence.

“No,” Shiro said and sighed, slowly standing up again. “So, um, did you want to come?” Shiro sniffed and wiped his nose along the back of his hand. 

Keith shuddered. “Yeah, let me get dressed.” 

“I’m gonna wait in the hall. Sorry, allergies.” 

He waved Shiro off to go back to his room, his eyes on Shiro’s photographs. They seemed uglier today. A stain on his wall and not a welcome sight to ease anxiety from his shoulders. He pulled on jeans and a pullover sweatshirt to completely hide from any prying eyes. If Matt wanted to think of him as a pitiable emo trainwreck, he’d give him a real visual to latch onto. He picked out earrings to go around both of his ears, inserting the black plugs he wore in last. 

Shiro laughing at him hurt so badly. More than the burn on his arm. 

The pain ached in his chest as a deep, throbbing bruise. Every time he pictured Shiro doubled over, cackling, tears formed in his eyes and he had to angrily wipe them away. He couldn’t understand how Shiro could find him so funny – mocking him for the kiss. A mistake. They were together, yes, but Shiro didn’t quite  _ understand _ yet. He’d come on too strongly and now Shiro knew more about him than even Dr. Balmera. 

Maybe he needed to take a few steps back.

Keith walked back out to the kitchen to poor dog kibble in Yorak’s bowl, pat his head, and step out into the hallway. Matt was talking with Shiro about some video game and Keith gave them both a once over. 

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Shiro asked, a smile returning to his face. 

Keith stared at both of them, knowing he needed to at least try to act as if he understood how to form normal relationships. Keith could see Matt mentally calculating all of the ways Keith was a loser. He could see it in Matt’s eyes behind his glasses. 

“Yeah,” he finally said, pushing his hands into his pockets. He felt far away like he wasn’t quite inside his body and his life wasn’t being lived by him.

“Great. You’ll love this place, it’s all black lights and only adults which is a bonus.” Shiro led them both to his BMW and Keith slid into the backseat. 

He was so upset he couldn’t even appreciate being in Shiro’s car for the first time. All he could do was stare at the backs of their heads, picturing what Matt’s would look like blown open. Maybe if he scraped Matt’s brains out of his skull and threw them in the trash where they belonged he would feel better. 

Maybe he would feel better if Matt wasn’t in the car. 

“So is it three against three or is it two against one?” Matt asked when Shiro pulled into the parking lot of the bowling alley. “Because I’m  _ positive _ , I could kick  _ both _ of your asses. Solidly.”

“Wanna be on my team, Keith?” Shiro asked. 

Keith climbed out of the car and didn’t say anything else. He kept his hands in his pockets, staring at the asphalt. The other two climbed out of the car too and Keith could hear them whispering but he didn’t have the energy to try and decipher their conversation. Finally, an agreement was reached, and Shiro joined him, leaning back against the car door casually. 

“Keith,” Shiro said slowly. “Is this about earlier? About the mock session? I’m  _ really _ sorry, honestly.” 

“It’s not that,” he replied quietly.

“Then what is it?”

Keith turned to look at Shiro, making sure they were making solid eye contact. He slowly withdrew his hands from his pockets so he didn’t present himself as timid. “I don’t like being made of,” he said, his voice serious and cold. “I’m sure you don’t either.” 

Shiro frowned, stammering a little. “Made fun of?” he whispered. “What are you talking about?” 

“I mean what I said.” Keith looked Shiro over and hoped his point went home, settling in Shiro’s head to live there like a worm. If Matt made fun of him again, Keith hoped Shiro would stop him. He walked away from the car and into the building, the other two slowly following.

The bowling alley, dark and glowing under the blacklight, reminded him of a nightclub but something sadder and more depressed. A space longing to be the liveliness of a nightclub but possessing none of the spirit or pizzazz to be one. All around them were drunken college students or depressed solitary white men who desperately wanted a handful of ass. 

“This’ll be fun,” Matt said as Shiro paid and Keith slowly accepted the shoes. 

He tried not to think too hard about the number of people wearing them before this moment as he pulled them on. 

“Yes,” Shiro said slowly. He still seemed unnerved but Keith ignored his discomfort. 

“You okay?” Matt asked. 

“Hm? I’m fine,” Shiro replied and shook himself all over before sitting to pull his shoes on. 

“Okay,” Matt said with a shrug and began to input their names. 

Keith focused on tying the awful, ugly shoes and by the time he looked up, his eyes focused on the screen at their names. 

 

_ Matthematics _

_ RoboDaddy _

_ EmoBoi _

 

Keith’s eyes widened a little at the name, feeling it burn into his brain and imprint into his hippocampus. Suddenly, he was a child, standing in a classroom full of other children and they were all pointing fingers and laughing at him because his clothes were too big and full of holes. Laughing because he smelled of farm animals. He was the quiet kid in high school with a sketchbook and a pencil, busily sketching the prettiest boy in science class. 

James Griffin. 

They were the worst of rivals and Keith had never wanted to punch a kid more solidly in the face than he had James Griffin but he also remembered how longingly he’d wanted to run his fingers through James’ hair and pull his head back for a kiss. He remembered when he did exactly that. He remembered the way James’ tasted like Mike’s Hard Lemonade and the smoke of a bonfire. He remembered the way James kissed back, but as soon as they were caught, James shoved him to the ground. Called him a freak.

“Keith?” Shiro said, gently touching his arm. “Keith, are you with me right now?” 

Keith blinked a few times but the offensive name was gone. Erased. Matt looked sheepish. 

“Keith.”

“What?” he asked, trying to play off the whole situation as if he hadn’t just disappeared long enough to worry Shiro. “I’m right here.” 

“I was talking to you, did you hear me at all?” Shiro continued to look on with concern. The kind of concern someone would have for an unhinged patient, not their friend. 

“Sorry about the name,” Matt said and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was trying to be funny but I shouldn’t have done that without asking first.” 

Keith regarded Matt Holt and wondered how badly he’d been made fun of growing up and now he was attempting to make up for it. Clearly, he was a complete nerd but his best friend was a six-foot-five jock who could probably crush any offender with his hands. Keith doubted Matt had anyone bother him now. 

“You didn’t know,” he replied and pasted on a smile to soothe and appease Matt’s nerves. “Now you know.” 

“Yeah. Again, sorry.” Matt coughed and let Keith approach to input his own name. 

Keith stared at the letters to debate. Part of him just wanted to put  _ Shiro’s _ but that would take too much explanation. He settled on simply  _ Keith _ because there was no need to do anything clever or fancy when he had nothing clever to say about his name. 

Matt opened his mouth, probably to protest, but Shiro jammed his elbow into his ribs. Keith noticed but didn’t say anything. He simply went to go find a bowling ball. Shiro and Matt did the same, traipsing around the room. Keith landed on a red ball, his fingers slotting in perfectly. More germs he tried not to think about. When he arrived home, he would have to shower for hours to ease all of the ickiness away. 

His fingers splayed over the ball, lifting it carefully. The weight and heft settled easily into his arms. Keith saw Matt pick up a ball and immediately envisioned Matt’s brains splattered all around the floor. He imagined himself, straddling Matt’s hips, bringing the bowling ball down over and over onto Matt’s crushed skull. The satisfying crunch and break of bone. The way his glasses would shatter. 

Matt couldn’t make fun of him if he were dead. 

Keith shoved the violent thoughts aside for a later date and crossed back over to them. Shiro was on his team and he offered Keith a shy smile when he returned. 

“What?” Keith asked. 

“I  _ suck _ at bowling,” Shiro whispered with a wink. “So, we might lose.” 

Keith snorted. “Maybe I have a master bowler inside me, you have no idea.” 

“Fair.” Shiro smiled again, seeming to loosen up now that the tension was gone. “Let’s kick Matt’s ass.” 

Keith looked over at Matt, once again, his vision going red. He smiled. “Happily.” 

 

* * *

  
  
“Keith.” 

Keith paused outside of his apartment door, slowly turning to face Shiro when he called his name. They had spent the evening bowling and Keith had ended up having a lot of fun with Shiro, even though Matt was only there to ruin everything sacred.

“Yes, Shiro?” 

“I had fun tonight,” Shiro said and he had yet another shy smile on his face. “You’ve been such a big help since Adam decided to… well, you know. Ghost me, I guess. I just wanted to say I really appreciate your kindness. I’m so sorry if we offended you tonight. You don’t deserve that and I’m also, again, sorry if I upset you today during our like… mock session.” 

Keith waved his hand lightly, pushing Shiro’s concerns aside. “I’m not angry with you, Shiro.”

 

Shiro, no. 

Matt, yes. 

 

“Good. Good, I’m glad. Hey, do you, um, want to maybe hang out again tomorrow?” 

“I work late,” Keith admitted. In fact, he had to go inside so he could go to work in a few minutes. “But once I get some sleep, sure.” 

“Oh, shit, do you have to work right now?” Shiro asked, his eyes going wide. “Fuck, I had no idea, I’m so sorry we kept you out so late.” 

“It’s okay. My job’s easy.” Keith smiled. “I would rather spend time with you than worry about work.” 

“Still, I’m really sorry, Keith.” Shiro looked sheepish and turned toward his door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, you will.” Keith let himself into his apartment, slowly shutting the door behind him. He had fifteen minutes to make it to work on time but Keith didn’t care about his job. He flew across his apartment to put on his uniform and then grabbed his backpack to stuff with Adam’s laptop and cell phone. 

He’d already downloaded all of the pertinent information he needed off of Adam’s devices, now he just had to rid himself of them. When he checked Adam’s phone, he saw the phone had several texts messages which he dared not open in case they send read receipts. They were all from his parents or Dustin, worried about his whereabouts. Keith rolled his eyes and made sure Yorak went outside onto the little grass he bought for the patio before going out to his car. 

Dogs were a lot of work and Keith was starting to regret taking Adam’s. 

The crematorium was old, located on a dark backroad, with only a few signs to indicate its existence. Keith had only found out about the job by finding a Craigslist ad and responding out of desperation. He worked the ultimate graveyard shift, cleaning the facility and making sure it was ready for the following workday. The only other live person on the site were the security guards but half the time they were asleep in their office anyway so Keith had no fear they would nag him for being late. 

He clocked in fifteen minutes later than his start time but he was there and he could start cleaning. The job wasn’t glamorous and he was somewhat glad his parents were dead so they didn’t have to see him as a janitor. He could have been something much greater but higher education had always been a dream of his parents and with their loss came his downfall. They weren’t there to push him and make him reach out and touch his dreams. Life was a lot harder without their positive influence. 

Keith made his way around the facility to clean, only going to the furnace room last so he could put some trash through and he set Adam’s phone and laptop in with the burnables as well. Shame, really, because the laptop was a brand new MacBook but Keith couldn’t risk keeping it, even if he wiped it completely clean. If the police came knocking on his and Shiro’s door in the future, he wanted nothing to do with Adam’s belongings.

His mind turned to Yorak for the second time that night and he wondered if he should let the dog go loose. Yorak was just a giant, fluffy idiot but if the police  _ did _ come, he couldn’t be caught with the dead man’s dog. He might have been able to fool Shiro but he wasn’t sure if he could fool the cops. 

He turned the furnace on and went to wait as it cycled through, the room growing hot, making him sweat profusely. The heat of the fire reminded him of his parents’ house. The way it caught and burned down so fast. He shut his eyes as he tried to chase away the thoughts of their screams. How they must have called for help and how no one had been there to help them. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the room. If he had been there he would have gone into the building to save them. The irony of his father, a fireman, dying in his own house fire was not lost on Keith. It only made him sadder. 

The furnace automatically kicked off when it was done and Keith went to make sure there was nothing but ashes left. He wanted no sign of technology left behind. Adam’s electronics officially destroyed, Keith felt some paranoia ease from his shoulders, only to be replaced with the growing annoyance of Matthew Holt. 

Apparently, he was going to become a problem. 

Keith didn’t want to resort to violence so quickly, considering Shiro would probably notice if his ex and his best friend went mysteriously missing but if Matt were going to constantly  _ undermine _ his relationship with Shiro, well… 

They were going to have to figure something out. 

Keith left the furnace room behind, his mind trailing back to the old refrigerator in the junkyard. He walked down the hall wheeling a cart full of towels and cleaning supplies, his mind immediately returning to that moment. The loud gunshot, how it still reverberated in his mind. The way Adam’s body slumped back onto the dirt, blood spilled all across the ground. His dead body reminded him of watching Lotor cut heads off of goats and chickens. He had learned to see corpses quickly as objects growing up –not people or beings. 

Objects. 

They were just bodies. Nothing more.

Seeing Adam dead hadn’t disturbed him; not after all of the practice he’d had in childhood preparing him for his adult life. Keith felt like a walking cliche – the abused boy turned into a murderer. Except, he only killed Adam out of necessity, like he was entertaining murdering Matt out of necessity. Crafting his life with Shiro needed to be  _ perfect _ and he refused to let anything stand in the way. 

His shift ended by six in the morning and Keith tiredly went back to his apartment, intending to crash but when he walked inside he noted his books, papers, and some of the furniture was upended. The sight put him on edge and he crept slowly inside until he remembered he had a fucking dog. Yorak was sitting by the mess, looking extremely ashamed of himself, clearly knowing he did something bad.  

“Stupid dog,” he whispered and dropped his hand from immediately reaching for the knife he kept on his person. “Time to go anyway. C’mon.”

Yorak approached slowly until he seemed to realize they were going on a car ride. Keith hooked his leash and took him back down to the car, letting him into the front seat. The streets were starting to fill with commuters going to and from work but there were still minimal cars on the road. Keith drove away from the main section of suburbia he lived in and out toward the countryside. 

Yorak sat comfortably in the front seat, sticking his head out the window, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Guilt filled Keith to the core but he’d been too arrogant when taking the dog at all. The consequences hadn’t hit him until recently and he didn’t want to do this. Of all the events happening since Adam’s death, Keith regretted this one the most. 

Once they were far enough away from civilization, Keith pulled the car over and climbed out, taking Yorak out of the passenger’s seat and over toward some trees. He unhooked the dog’s leash and patted his head affectionately. 

“You know, you made a good dog,” he told Yorak lightly. “Minus the mess, this morning but that was probably because you were bored which is my fault, too.” 

Yorak sat at his feet, looking up at him with only the trust a dog could give a person. He panted, his dog smile so adorable it made Keith’s heart cleave in two. Tears burned his eyes as he removed Yorak’s collar and walked back to the car, dumping the dog’s leash and collar in his trunk. Yorak went to follow, clearly confused when Keith climbed into the car and started to drive away. 

He kept his eyes firmly on the road in front of him, his lower lip trembling as he drove away. He didn’t dare look back to see how far Yorak would chase his car. He didn’t want to see Yorak suffer but this was strictly business. No one could know he’d taken Adam’s dog and he knew now, in hindsight, how foolish the act had been. 

The drive back to his apartment was lonely and tears streamed down his face by the time he pushed the door open and he had to clean up the mess Yorak left behind. The dog toys he’d purchased went into the trash and his apartment felt foreign and alien. 

Empty. Lonely. 

The live feed of Shiro’s apartment showed Shiro was up eating breakfast but Keith didn’t even have the energy to have breakfast with him. He dropped onto the bed, face first, and tried to chase away with his sadness with sleep. 

He dreamt of burning houses and howling dogs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm sad about the dog too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended u being well over 14k so I split it in half instead of dumping 14k on you guys at one time, so I apologize for the weird cut off. I tried to find a place to end without it being too strange. 
> 
> This chapter is fairly heavy with discussion of childhood abuse and assault, please read with caution

Watching Shiro sleep brought peace to his anxious rattled mind. After attempting to sleep post-work, Keith woke from a nightmare an hour later and now sat eating Cocoa Puffs to watch Shiro sleep peacefully. Shiro was primarily a stomach sleeper which Keith found adorable.

The way Shiro slept so soundly caused an ache to develop in Keith’s chest. The longing to stretch out beside Shiro while he slept. Sliding fingers through silky hair, mapping the scar on his face, watching dark eyelashes flutter and twitch. The ease of Shiro’s body yielding when Keith rolls on top of him, hands groping every muscle; soft moans whispering in the early morning. After, Keith would fill the kitchen with smells of eggs and bacon. 

Lazy, early mornings together. 

Shiro’s alarm went off, startling both of them; Shiro rolled over to blearily shut the alarm off, and Keith checked the time. He had errands to run this morning before a promising day with Shiro.

Keith finished his cereal and shuffled to his feet to gather a trash bag full of dog toys and supplies to donate to the animal shelter. They were better off at a shelter than in the garbage anyway. He also made sure to have Shiro’s spare key. He was on his way out to the car when his name was called. Keith paused, still carrying the bag full of toys when Shiro came down the steps to the parking lot. 

“Hey,” Shiro greeted. “What’s all this?” 

“Uh– errands,” Keith said, stuffing the bag into his trunk. 

“Isn’t that your dog’s stuff?” Shiro asked a frown blooming between his eyes. “Did something happen?” 

Keith stammered as he realized the spiderweb of lies he’d so carefully weaved could be torn down by one wrong answer. “Well,” he said carefully. “It wasn’t working out.” 

“Oh,” Shiro replied slowly and unconvinced. 

“He wasn’t happy and constantly tearing my apartment apart–.” 

“So, you just gave him back?” Shiro asked. His question tasted a lot like judgment. 

“I– I–.” Keith continued to stumble over his words as panic filled his entire body. “It wasn’t working out.” 

Shiro shook his head. “Adopting an animal is a lot of work, Keith, you can’t just give them back like a sweater you don’t want because you don’t like them.”

Keith’s face fell and he mentally berated himself for earning Shiro’s disapproval. “I have some errands to run, Shiro,” he said flatly. He kept his gaze fixated on the ground listlessly, his feelings further crushed. 

Shiro nodded. “Me, too.” 

The conversation ended between them but Keith replayed it repeatedly in his mind on the way to the shelter. There was no way for him to fix the lie now and he had to live with knowing Shiro saw him as uncaring and heartless.

He’d cried over that doofus dog but Shiro never saw the evidence. 

Anger built up on his way back to the apartment. Keith stopped at their local Target to use the copy-a-key kiosk, making a copy of Shiro’s apartment key for himself. Now, he could return Shiro’s key like any good neighbor would do. 

He returned to his apartment, hanging Shiro’s key on a special ring, and going to check Shiro’s live feed. The apartment was still dark and empty, meaning he had to wait to salvage his relationship. Their first fight over a stupid dog. 

Would Shiro dump him over a dog? 

The thought left his hands shaking while he paced his bedroom helplessly. Shiro wouldn’t stop seeing him over a dog, right? The worry was too great for Keith to simply sit still so he paced until the pacing turned into action. Thoughts didn’t form in Keith’s mind until he was unlocking Shiro’s apartment door. The space, always so clean, felt alien now – it knew he didn’t belong. 

Keith shook the negativity away because he had to act fast. He tore through the apartment to Shiro’s bedroom quickly, eyes peeled for the cat. Black lounged on her cat tree, sleeping, but opened her eyes when he came in. Keith didn’t think; he grabbed her by the scruff, wrapped her in his jacket, and carried the growling bundle to his apartment.

Part of him considered staging a break in but he changed his mind quickly. If Shiro blamed himself, he would be more compliant. He relocked Shiro’s door and returned to his own apartment where Black was sniffing his belongings, clearly confused and alarmed.

“You won’t be here long,” he told her as if that would make her relax. 

Keith took a few deep breaths to calm down. Black darted under the couch to hide and he was content to let her stay there. Now, he just needed to wait for Shiro to come home. 

An hour went by before Keith saw Shiro come back into his apartment. He stood and rushed over to knock, rocking on the balls of his feet with nerves. The door pulled open and Shiro looked at him expectantly.

“Hi,” Keith said. “I forgot I had your spare key.”

Shiro’s eyes flew down to where Keith held the key out in his palm as an offering. “Oh– thank you.” Shiro chuckled and he accepted the key back. “You know, you probably could have kept this and I would never have realized.”

Keith smirked slightly but he withdrew his hand once Shiro had the key. “Don’t tempt me,” he said. Shiro took it as a joke and laughed. 

“Well, I guess if my stuff goes missing, I know who to blame.” Shiro winked. 

“I should get going,” Keith said, turning to go back to his door. 

“Keith.”

Bingo. 

Keith turned back around. “I really have to go,” he said, despite wanting to accept whatever apology Shiro wanted to say. This game had to be played just right. Once Shiro realized his cat was missing, he would want help, and who would be there for him? Who would help him look and then rescue his cat when all hope seemed lost? 

“Okay, sure.” Shiro looked to the key again, seeming sheepish but Keith went back to his apartment. The door closed on Shiro’s face, breaking Keith’s heart, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t have to wait for long. 

 

* * *

  
  


Quiet. 

Pins probably could have been as loud as bullets. Keith sat crossed legged in front of his laptop, a bag of chips in his lap, untouched, eyes trained on Shiro. He always fed Black by 5:30 when he was home and currently it was 5:28.

Keith held his breath. 

“Black,” Shiro called, right on time. “Black, it’s time for dinners.” Shiro stood up and walked over to the kitchen to fish out his overly expensive organic cat food. He made a few kissy sounds but Keith knew the cat wasn’t coming. 

“Black!” Shiro yelled, snapping his fingers. “Are you sleeping? I swear…”

Keith watched Shiro walk to his bedroom and then walk all around, bending down to check under the bed. His search grew more frantic as he checked more and more spots but the cat remained missing. 

“Black! Black, where are you?!” Shiro’s voice rose to a panic as he desperately checked inside cabinets and the bathroom. “Black!” 

Keith set his chips aside and slowly stood up. Shiro would probably start to search soon and he would be ready to jump in and assist. He heard Shiro’s door open and he called down the hall for his cat which made Black pop out from her spot under his couch, rushing for the door but Keith snatched her up. 

“Shh,” he hissed at her, bringing her back to his bathroom to dump on the floor. “No meowing.” 

Someone frantically knocked on his door.

Keith shut the bathroom and rushed back down the hall to answer the front door. He took a few deep breaths to collect himself and then answered, his eyes widening at the sight of panicked Shiro. “Shiro?”

“Have you seen my cat?” Shiro asked, his face as white as the white forelock across his forehead. “I– I don’t know where she is. I went to feed her but she’s not inside.” 

Keith shook his head slowly. “No, I haven’t. Could she have gotten out?” 

“I… I don’t know… I don’t… Fuck.” Shiro ran his hands through his hair, shoving it every which way and making it stand up on its ends. “I got up. I had breakfast. I fed her. I gathered my stuff. I walked out. I shut the door– I don’t think she slipped out? But… fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ !” 

“Shiro,  _ calm down _ ,” Keith said firmly. “I’ll help you look.” 

“You will?  _ Thank _ you.” Shiro took a few breaths, doing mental gymnastics as he tried to figure out where Black could be. “I don’t think she’d go far if she did get loose…. God damn it, I should have been more careful. This is my fault.” 

“We’ll find her.” Keith locked his apartment door and they went down the stairs to start their search.

“What if she’s been hit by a car–.

“ _ Don’t _ think like that. Does she have tags? A collar?” Keith knew her collar had no tags. 

“She doesn’t have tags because I’m  _ stupid _ .” Shiro’s eyes watered and a few tears slipped free. “She’s chipped though. I should… I should call the shelter. Maybe they found her.” 

“Call them, I’ll check the parking lot,” Keith said, leaving Shiro to call the shelter in vain while he casually checked around cars, bending down to make a show of it all. They would search until Shiro was tired and he would leave Shiro to go to bed. By morning, he would have found Shiro’s cat. 

The plan was genius. 

Shiro walked over once he was done on the phone, his face a red mess. “They haven’t seen her but they said they’d keep an eye out. I can’t believe she’s  _ gone _ .”

“I didn’t see her under any cars,” Keith said slowly. “I’m so sorry, Shiro. We could make posters to put up?”

“I just want to keep looking.” 

“Okay.” 

They walked all over the apartment complex, stopping at random places to see if they’d seen a black sphynx but no one had seen her. The hours ticked by until Shiro had cried so much Keith wasn’t sure there were any tears in his body left. By nightfall, they were back outside of Shiro’s apartment with Shiro looking defeated and exhausted. 

“Shiro,” Keith said quietly, reaching out his hand to place on Shiro’s shoulder. “We’ll find her.

“I lost her and that’s my fault.” Shiro sniffed, wiping his nose along the back of his arm. “I should… go to bed… I can look more tomorrow. Thanks for your help, Keith. I didn’t deserve it.” 

“What makes you say that?” Keith asked, admiring how the moonlight gave Shiro a silvery halo around his head. 

“I was really rude to you earlier. I shouldn’t have judged you about your dog when I don’t even know the full story. I’m… I’m sorry.” Shiro stared down at the ground, his face tired and full of shame.

The apology made Keith feel warm and he squeezed Shiro’s shoulder gently. “Go to bed, Shiro. I’ll help you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Keith.”

Keith allowed Shiro to go inside, waiting for his door to shut before going back to his own apartment where he could hear Black meowing and clawing at the bathroom door to be let out. He rolled his eyes, walking by the door, and pounding his fist on it once. She went quiet. 

“No more fucking crying, got it? You’ll go home in the morning. Jesus,” Keith snarled as he walked to his room to check on Shiro. 

Shiro sat on his bed, staring at the floor, seeming so sad and depressed. He was holding something in his hands. A picture? Keith couldn’t tell which was frustrating. He almost walked back to Shiro’s apartment and let himself in so he could comfort him some more but Shiro didn’t know he had a copy of his apartment key. Of course, Shiro  _ had _ said he could keep the key. 

He shook his head, turning to leave Shiro alone in his mourning. Black returned to meowing and yowling behind the door which made Keith want to go into the bathroom and shake her into silence but he slammed his pillow over his face instead. 

Morning could not come fast enough.

 

* * *

 

 

When the sun did rise, Keith dragged his tired body out of bed and opened the bathroom door, unsurprised to see Black immediately darting out, the room smelling of cat piss and shit. He’d have to clean it up later and he was terrified to peek into the room at the mess but he followed her out to the living room where he grabbed a small throw blanket and had to wrestle her into it

“ _ Hold _ still, you fucking brat,” he growled, wrapping her tight like a burrito. Black growled and glared at him, ears flat against her head. “I’m taking you home, Jesus, don’t stare at me like that or I’ll find out personally if cats land on their feet three stories up.” 

Black hissed but Keith left the apartment to walk up to Shiro’s door, knocking loudly so Shiro would hear him this early in the morning. He heard movement inside after a moment and Shiro’s tired voice, “Who is it?” 

“It’s Keith. I found your cat.” 

The door opened so fast, Keith almost had whiplash. Shiro stood on the other side, his eyes wide, looking like absolute hell. His hair stood up all over the place, dark circles under his eyes revealed he’d probably slept less than Keith, and he was still wearing the same clothes as last night. 

“Black!!!” Shiro accepted the wrapped cat, squeezing her tightly in his arms. “Oh my God, where did you find her?” 

“I went out again this morning because I know cats like… you know… to be out in the morning so I figured maybe she’d come back around. I had to chase her around the building for a while, sorry if she’s a little pissed off.” 

Shiro snorted and kept snuggling her. “Thank you. Thank you  _ so _ much, Keith. Can I pay you? I was going to offer a reward if someone found her–.” 

“I don’t want your money, Shiro.” 

“Well, can I do  _ something _ ? I feel like I have to do something,” Shiro said, finally letting Black go, where she darted into the recesses of Shiro’s apartment. 

Keith regarded Shiro and was tempted to ask for a night out. A date. But then he remembered what Shiro said about how he wasn’t  _ ready _ and he didn’t want to force Shiro to go out with him. “We never had a chance to hang out yesterday because… of the fight.” 

“Right. We didn’t.” Shiro blushed. “I have class today, um, but I’m done by three. Do you want to come over for dinner? I can make you food.” 

Keith smiled a little as he remembered the first time they’d done that together. “That sounds nice.” 

“What’s your favorite? I want to make you something you’ll like.” 

“I’m a garbage can,” Keith said with a shrug. “I’ll eat anything.”

“I was thinking of mac and cheese,” Shiro admitted with a blush. “I love mac and cheese.” 

“Sure, Shiro.” Keith smiled. “Keep an eye on that cat. I’d…  _ hate _ to see something happen to her.”

Shiro nodded. “Yeah, me too. Thank you  _ again _ . God, I owe you like six thousand things right now.” Shiro laughed but Keith just smiled. 

“I’ll come to collect sometime. Don’t worry.” Keith winked and Shiro waved, going back inside.

Keith watched Shiro go before shuddering as he remembered how he would have to clean the bathroom. Germs. Cat germs. Cat shit. Cat  _ piss _ . His stomach twisted as he walked back inside to grab a pair of rubber gloves and every cleaning product he owned. If he had to, he’d scrub the bathroom all night until it sparkled. 

_ Rooms and little boys must be clean always.  _

Keith shuddered as his uncle’s voice whispered in his ear. The memory twinged along his spine but he pushed it aside before daring to brave the bathroom. The smell hit him first and he gagged, only to return to the kitchen to grab a face mask and slap it on so he could handle breathing. The room was torn apart with his toilet paper in pieces and shreds all over the place. Dried cat shit covered the floor as if she’d walked through it and dragged it all over with her butt. 

“Stupid fucking cat,” Keith hissed, grabbing some cleaning product to start scrubbing with a sponge. 

_ Little boys need scrubbing. Dirty little boys need  _ cleaning _.  _

Sendak’s words returned to whisper in his mind as lost memories dragged themselves to the surface as a result of Shiro’s session the other day. The twinge in his back returned, stronger, searing and burning relentlessly. He gasped, dropping the sponge in his hand and slipping on the tiled floor to stand and turn his back to the mirror. He lifted his shirt and twisted back around to see what was hurting so badly. 

Directly on his lumbar spine and kidney area was raised and burnt flesh. Keith frowned as he couldn’t remember burning his back anytime soon but after further inspection, he realized the burn was old. The skin was scarred and puckered, discolored and pale, but shouldn’t have been hurting. The only burn hurting now was his arm throbbing which Shiro had still yet to see. He’d done his best to hide the wound. Keith let his shirt drop back down and he twisted back around to stare at the tiled floor beneath his feet.

_ Dirty little boys need cleaning _ . 

He shut his eyes, tears welling behind his eyelids. He was six years old, trapped beneath his uncle’s hands, while the man scrubbed his back with bleach and cleaning fluid. He remembered the pain of the liquid scorching his skin. He couldn’t remember where his parents were when it happened but he remembered it happened often.

Keith slowly sank to the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees and bury his face against them. Regret filled his body as he realized he’d given Shiro too much information and now old skeletons were crawling out of their coffins to torment him endlessly. He didn’t  _ want _ to remember every detail of the childhood he’d forced himself to forget. 

He didn’t want any of this.

Keith wiped his eyes on his sleeve so he could return to cleaning the bathroom. The floor took the longest to scrub, hours, but afterward, everything else was mostly easy. He threw away the tendrils of toilet paper and picked up items knocked onto the floor, tossing them in the trash since they were now tainted. The sink he scrubbed last and the shower was oddly untouched. By the time Keith walked out of the bathroom, his knees and back ached so badly he felt like he had aged eighty years. 

It was well after 2:30 by the time he was finished and his stomach growled relentlessly as a cruel reminder he had yet to eat. Shiro would be done with class soon. They were going to have dinner so Keith withheld his desire to eat in favor of eating with Shiro. 

Keith went to sit on the couch rolling the sleeve of his pull-over up to inspect the healing burn. The flesh was still red and raised, small blisters giving the wound an unnatural sheen.  Due to the large expanse of the burn, the area still hurt but he had always been excellent at compartmentalizing. 

3:00. 

Shiro would be home soon but Keith couldn’t bring himself to leave the couch. His mind kept wandering back to moments he wanted to forget entirely. Bleach eating away the skin burned intensely – he could feel the scar on his back tingle with the memory. 

_ Scream and cry all you like but Mommy and Daddy can’t save you now _ . 

Keith closed his eyes and pressed the heel of his hands against his eye sockets until all he could see were colors and rapidly changing patterns. 

_ It’s  _ your _ fault they’re dead. You were  _ bad _ and now they’re dead. _

“No,” Keith sobbed –  _ begged _ . He couldn’t tell if the voice belonged to Sendak or if the voice were his own. “Stop. It’s not my fault! It’s not my fault…” 

Keith wrapped his arms around his torso to try and self-soothe but the touch felt too extreme. Too much. He dropped his arms and tried to banish the voice whispering blame in his ear but it only continued to loop. He was helpless against a cruel beast. Instead of hugging himself, Keith rocked back and forth to help calm down before his mood spiraled into a full blown panic attack.

The buzz of his phone on the coffee table drew his gaze and he saw Shiro texted him. 

 

_ → Hey :) you can come over whenever you want I’m home now _

_ → And I know I said I was sorry already but really I feel like I’ve been the worst friend to you lately while you’ve done nothing except be helpful and nice _

_ → So, once again, I'm SO sorry Keith. I’m going to work on being a better friend _

 

Keith ran his thumb across Shiro’s texts, startled when fat tears dropped onto the screen. He had to use his sweater to clean the screen off before he could even reply. Shaking hands resulted in typos but he managed to type a reply. 

 

**← It’s pk shirt**

**← Shirt**

**← S H I R  O**

**← i’ll be ovre soo n**

 

_ → ok! _

 

Keith swallowed a lump forming back down and ran shaking fingers through his hair to continue calming down. He couldn’t show up at Shiro’s a complete mess. Achieving a sense of calm took longer than expected and even by the time he walked to Shiro’s apartment, he still almost let himself in by accident. Keith stared at his hand holding the extra key out toward the lock for a good five minutes before finally managing to remember to knock. 

“It’s open!” Shiro called and Keith’s eyes widened slightly when he heard a loud crash and Shiro cursing. 

Shiro left the door unlocked for him. 

Shiro trusted him enough to allow him entry openly.

Keith wrapped his fingers around the door handle and slowly opened the apartment door. “Shiro?” he called. 

“Sorry!” Shiro’s metal arm shot up over the counter, waving a little in the air, while the rest of him remained hidden. “Hands were full when you knocked and then I– dropped– damn it–.” 

Keith slid out of his shoes and walked around to see Shiro trying to gather spilled mac and cheese from the kitchen floor. Black was greedily helping herself despite Shiro pushing her backward. 

“Can you grab her?” Shiro asked. “I don’t want her eating this stuff.” 

Keith nodded and went to scoop the cat up. As soon as he went to wrap her in his arms, she growled and hissed. Keith moved to pull back but he was too late. Black screeched angrily and scratched her claws sharply on his burnt arm. The pain caused tears to well in his eyes and took several steps back, surprised by how much he bled.

“Keith!” Shiro gasped and went to stand up, almost slipping in the noodle mess. “I’m so sorry, are you okay?!” 

“I’m fine,” he lied through gritted teeth and fought the urge to kick Black with his feet.

“I  _ swear _ she’s not usually like that.” Shiro gently took his arm to blot the blood with a paper towel. “What– What happened to your arm? It’s all burnt–.”

“Just a stove accident,” he lied dismissively.

“Maybe I should take you to the Urgent Care. That could get infected,” Shiro said, his face a mask of guilt. “God, I can’t quit hurting you… I– I don't know what to say.”

“Shiro, it’s okay. I probably just startled her. Do you have a first aid kit? I can doctor it while you clean up.” 

“Yes. My bathroom in my bedroom. Medicine cabinet on the side by the light switch. I don’t mind helping–.” 

“It’s fine. I can do it.” While the prospect of Shiro tending to him was a nice thought, Keith didn’t like other people trying to assess his pain. He didn’t like the idea of someone  _ else _ touching his wound and making it even worse. 

“Are you sure?” The guilt on Shiro’s face infected the room and Keith felt his anxiety spike.

“Yes, I'm fine. Really. You can clean, I’ll doctor and we’ll meet in the middle.” Keith held the bloody paper towel to his arm and walked down the hall to Shiro’s bedroom. He just hoped the bathroom was cleaner than he last saw

Keith didn’t have time to appreciate being invited into Shiro’s private space for the first time. He only had his thoughts on tending to his arm. The bathroom was not nearly as disastrous as the first time but the sight of dirty laundry and towels made him shudder. The toilet cover was down but Keith had a feeling it probably needed a good scrubbing. 

The first aid kit was exactly where Shiro said it would be, stuffed full of bandages, gauze, disinfectant, and tape. Keith kept his eyes on the task at hand instead of focusing on the sink with crusted toothpaste on the side. 

How could Shiro live in such filth? 

The mess made Keith gag a few times as he cleaned and bandaged the wound. The idea of germs crawling their way up his legs and launching onto his compromised arm made him work quickly. Shiro appeared in the doorway as Keith was putting the kit away.

“Sorry about the mess – and my cat. Also, sorry about dinner,” Shiro said, keeping his distance. “Are you mad?” 

Keith turned to face Shiro with a smile. “Of course not. I  _ am _ starving though.” 

“Yeah, let me take you out. My treat and you pick,” Shiro offered. 

Keith smirked. “Are you taking me on a date?” he teased but Shiro frowned which made Keith backtrack. “Did you leave your sense of humor in the kitchen, Shiro?” 

Shiro blinked as if he were surprised and needed to recover. “ _ Oh _ – sorry… It’s just… I mean, you kissed me previously and I thought you were serious–  _ phew _ , sorry.” Shiro stepped back so Keith could leave the bathroom. 

Shiro’s relief hurt worse than his arm. “Are you saying you wouldn’t?”

“Wouldn’t, what? Date you?” Shiro stammered and looked trapped. “It’s not that I  _ wouldn’t _ but I told you before I’m not ready. Please, don’t push it, Keith. That’s not cool and it makes me uncomfortable. I want to be your friend but not if you’re just looking to hook up.” 

Rejection. 

An emotion Keith was painfully used to. He could remember how often boys in high school rejected him, post-James Griffin. Tinder rejections post-high school. Rejection from jobs, family, strangers – his life was full of rejection.

Shiro’s still hurt the most. 

He didn’t know what to say – he never did. Usually, he accepted the blow and moved on. But he loved Shiro so much and to hear how much Shiro  _ didn’t _ care for him was a kind of pain he wanted to allow consume him until nothing was left. He wanted to go home and eat a bullet. He wanted to never take another breath. 

“I’m very sorry for my actions,” Keith said, his voice as emotionless as he felt. The words were a script he’d learned growing up when he’d done something wrong. “I know I can be too much for people and I upset them. I won’t do it again.” More script. 

“Do you mean that or are you just saying what I want to hear because I  _ really _ need you to respect my boundaries, Keith.”

_ You’re  _ too much _ , boy. You annoy everyone around you. It’s why you have no friends. No one wants to love something like you. _

Keith did his best to look Shiro in the eye. The grey as dark as a storm cloud when he was angry. “I didn’t mean to overstep,” he said. “I’ve upset you and I’m sorry.” 

“I just want to make sure this isn’t just you trying to bed me.” Shiro looked at him with a kind of caution reserved for wild animals – like Keith weren’t a person at all.

He was used to that, too.

“It’s not,” Keith whispered. He wanted to convey how much he  _ loved _ Shiro and wanted to make him  _ his _ . Keith’s tongue ached to confess how he would never give up on Shiro and nothing was worth his pain – and how they were inexplicably entwined. 

They  _ belonged _ together and one day Shiro would realize the blatant truth. They would be  _ so _ happy together.

He just had to be patient. 

“Okay, good,” Shiro said and visibly relaxed but Keith felt the distance between them miles long. “Now that we’ve established this is  _ not _ a date and we’re just friends, where did you want to eat?” 

“Somewhere you’re comfortable.” 

“Where  _ I’m _ comfortable?” 

Keith nodded. “I don’t go out and I’m not sure where to go. The only place I know is Cosmic Pizza.” 

He looked away as he bared his lack of a social life out loud. Echoing laughter filled his mind, so real, he was almost convinced Shiro was laughing at him. Again.

“You… don’t go out,” Shiro repeated with disbelief. “Don’t you have friends?”

“You.” He shrugged. People didn’t usually befriend him. 

“Oh… Well... “ Shiro rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess we could go to this buffet I know. That way I’m sure you can find something you’d like.” 

“Do you still want to go?” Keith asked even if he feared the answer. He was so used to being  _ too much _ for people he knew where this conversation was headed. Shiro would admit to not feeling comfortable going out and Keith would return home to sit in his bedroom eating dinner alone while he watched Shiro watch television. He would take six Klonopin and pray he didn’t wake up. 

“Yes I do, I’ll drive.” Shiro’s face softened when he smiled. Keith wasn’t sure where the lie lived but he was sure he’d find out later. His expectations weren’t too high. 

“Okay,” he agreed quietly. 

They walked out to the parking lot and Keith had to mentally remind himself to sit up front and not immediately climb into the back of the car. The ride was quiet but not uncomfortable. Keith liked being comfortable enough around Shiro to have their silences feel safe. 

When they reached the buffet the silence continued until they were both sitting with plates full of food. Shiro had a mountain of macaroni and cheese on a separate plate. 

“Not having friends is tough,” Shiro said. “I know what that’s like. When I moved to the States, I was still learning English and my parents didn’t speak any… Being the new kid was really hard. I’m sorry, Keith if I made you feel alienated earlier. Like– like you having a crush is criminal or something.” 

Keith shrugged and took a bite of mashed potatoes. “I’m used to people rejecting me. Disliking me.”

“I don’t  _ dislike _ you.” Shiro set his fork aside to completely focus on him. “Like I said before – I find you attractive. I'm just… I’m hung up on Adam still and I don’t want you to be my rebound. That’s not fair to you.” 

Keith shrugged for the second time. “It’s okay.” 

Shiro disliked him – like everyone else. 

“Can I ask what you meant earlier?” Shiro continued, his voice softer and gentler. 

“What?” 

“That you know you can be ‘too much’ for people?” 

“Just something I’ve been told a lot.” 

Shiro’s face fell and he looked completely heartbroken. “Who told you that?” 

“My uncle. Teachers. Acquaintances.” Keith refused to call anyone he knew from high school  _ friend _ . Sure, he had Facebook friends but no one messaged him or asked to meet up. He didn’t have people checking up on him or asking about his life. 

“Keith, I'm sorry people have said that to you–.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because it’s… it’s  _ mean _ .” 

Keith snorted and shoved some food around his plate. “Believe me, that’s not the meanest thing someone has said to me.” 

Senior year. Prom. Pointing and laughing. Faggot.

Shiro winced. “But it sticks with you if you’re reciting it to me like the Pledge of Allegiance. You aren’t  _ too much _ . You’re Keith – different but you’re also nice, thoughtful, helpful, and genuine. Never let someone shut you down because they can’t handle you. And  _ I’m _ sorry if I ever made you feel shut down.”

“It’s alright, Shiro,” Keith replied. He kept his voice flat. “I’m used to it, really.”

“That’s not something you should ever be used to, Keith. Your uncle told you this? What about your parents?” Shiro slowly resumed eating, attention on Keith.

“My parents didn’t abuse me.” 

“But your… your uncle did?” 

“I never said that.” 

“I'm sorry,” Shiro said quickly. “I just keep thinking about your dream you told me about and I can’t quite let it go. I just keep thinking  _ maybe _ your dream is your repressed memories trying to surface–.” 

Keith cut Shiro off. His voice remained as flat and monotone as he’d started the evening with earlier. There was no room for emotion, just facts. “They aren’t repressed memories. I can remember every single detail of what they did to me in that dress.” 

“Excuse me?” Shiro said. He was startled.

Keith looked off behind Shiro, the memories spilling out like broken pieces of glass out of his mouth. Sharp and coated in the blood from his childhood. “They started when I was four. The dresses were ugly and itchy. They kept it to pictures for a while but then they started to rape me, too.” 

“They?” 

“My cousin and uncle. Both in on it. Both enjoying it.”

“Keith, where were your  _ parents _ ? Didn’t you tell them–.” 

“Sendak threatened to gut my father with a dull kitchen knife and feed me his entrails if I spoke a word to either of them when I was five years old. I never told them.” Keith pushed his plate away. The hunger inside he felt was not from lack of food but lack of feeling. He was so numb and tired. “They kept it up for years. When I hit puberty I thought it would stop but I was wrong. It was only worse after that because I could become sexually aroused.”

Shiro pushed his plate aside, too, green around the gills. “Keith–.”

“They didn’t stop abusing me until the fire.” 

“You said that was like… three years ago? Did they abuse you that long? And your parents didn’t know? How is that possible?”

“Are you blaming me?” 

“What–  _ no _ ! It started so  _ young _ , I mean, if you were in close proximity to your parents, how did they not see marks on your body?” Shiro looked as if he couldn’t believe anything Keith said which Keith supposed was his fault for even bothering to open up. 

Seeing Shiro’s disbelief shut him down harder than when his therapist took notes in his face. “Take me home, Shiro.” 

“Keith, wait-.” 

“If you don’t want to take me home, I’ll call for an Uber.” He hadn’t eaten anything except one bite but the thought of food was too much.

“Keith, I’m sorry,” Shiro said, his voice so desperate to be believed. “I’m not trying to make it sound like I don’t believe you because I  _ do _ . Have you told anyone about this? Your therapist? The police?”

“They’re dead now,” Keith snapped coldly. “They deserved to die in that fucking fire. What are the police going to do now?” 

“Do… You said, you thought the house was an arson,” Shiro said slowly, his eyes looking all over Keith’s face. “Keith, did you set that fire?” 

Keith turned his gaze to Shiro’s and saw fear in his eyes. Fear of him. Shiro was so afraid, the fear was palpable in the room. Everyone else seemed extremely far away like they all existed on another plane entirely. The moment was just theirs.

“Keith, did you set that fire?” 

The bloody broken glass of his childhood spilled from his mouth and all over the table looked like a minefield now. There was so much space separating them and Keith couldn’t feel the string of fate twisting them together anymore. The numbness in his chest spread until he couldn’t feel his fingers. 

“I told you I wasn’t home that night,” he replied finally. The tension holding them apart slackened. 

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Shiro said quietly. “Did you set your house on fire?” 

“You’re a very bold person, aren’t you, Takashi?” Keith asked, regarding Shiro with wary eyes. “I tell you a few things about my childhood and you jump across canyons to make assumptions about me personally. You’re going to be a horrible therapist if you think you can make such leaps after two conversations.” 

Shiro stared in surprise, jerking back, his eyes widening and his jaw falling open. “I–.” He stammered and tripped over his words, completely stunned. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Just… the way you were talking… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that question.” 

“To answer it, no. I didn’t light my house on fire,” Keith said quietly. “Someone did though.”

“How do you know?” 

“I just know.” He looked away again and tried not to think on how the smell of smoke hadn’t left his nose for a year after his parents’ deaths. Sometimes, he could still smell the acrid air. 

Shiro let out a long breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he collected his emotions. “Look, what you said tonight was really heavy and I don’t know if you’ve told your therapist about this stuff-.” 

“I haven’t.”

“Why?” 

“She doesn’t care about me.”

“Keith…” 

“I pay her to care about me,” he said, his tone back to being sharp and cold. “I don’t pay you anything. You listen because you genuinely care. Or at least, you pretend,  _ very _ well.” 

“I  _ do _ care,” Shiro said firmly. “Which is why I’m going to advise you tell your therapist about this abuse you’ve suffered so she can help you cope with it.”

“Is that your professional opinion?”

“It’s the opinion I’m giving you as someone studying psychology, yes, but also because I’m your friend.” Shiro reached over and took Keith’s hand. 

Keith’s eyes shot down to where Shiro held his hand, wrapping their fingers together. The red string of fate suddenly bloomed fire red in his vision. He slowly looked up at Shiro, holding his breath, too afraid to ruin this moment. 

“What happened to you was  _ awful _ and it went on for  _ so _ long. I know it must be hard to talk about… but I think you really should at least try.” Shiro squeezed his hand gently, still holding on. Shiro’s palm was warm and smooth against his own. Keith could tell his were sweaty but Shiro still had yet to pull away or wipe his hands on his shirt rudely. “You’re fucking freezing, are you okay?” 

Keith snorted at the change in subject and finally broke the handhold himself, shoving his hands in his pockets. Too much touch. “I’m always cold.” 

“You need gloves,” Shiro joked lightly. “Are we okay?” 

“Yes. We’re fine.” Keith picked up his form again and stabbed it hard into the piece of overdone steak. The motion reminded him of another memory from a few years ago. 

“Great. So, um, after we’re done eating do you want to… see a movie? Or come back to my place? Watch a movie there? I’ll make sure to put Black in my room. Or do you have to work, fuck, I keep forgetting you work late nights.” Shiro finally dug into his mountain of mac and cheese, looking as if he knew what God looked like. 

For a man who hadn’t wanted to take him out on a date, Shiro was sure making this into a date. 

“Sure, Shiro. I’d love to.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: Please read the updated tags
> 
> Secondly: I cannot believe this is 2018 and I have to say this but I'm saying it
> 
> **Stalking is not cute. Stalking is not romantic. Shiro and Keith should not be in a relationship together because Keith's behavior is wildly erratic and out of control**. 
> 
> I have had several alarming comments on this fic and while I know we all want to enjoy our dark material and move on, I just _really_ need to make it clear that stalking is not romantic and it is a real ass crime that will slam you in jail. It's ok to read this fic and feel bad for Keith but always remember Keith is a stalker. Keith is dangerous and he is a killer. Keith needs help and I have done my best to write this fic in the most unromantic way possible.

Watching Shiro sleep in person was ten times more gratifying than watching over the live feed. Slow, deep breaths soothing Keith’s mind while he watched from the side of Shiro’s bed. After the movie, Shiro had invited him to stay the night – on the couch but Keith couldn’t resist the urge to see Shiro sleep in person. 

Soft moonlight highlighted the white of Shiro’s bangs turning them brilliantly silver. His eyes moved behind his eyelids signaling he was dreaming. The one aspect of Shiro’s life he could not see for himself was Shiro’s dreams and Keith hated how he could not follow Shiro there. The one place he could not see. 

Keith remained poised on the floor by Shiro’s bed, ready to slide beneath so they could finally sleep together when Shiro shifted in his sleep. Keith froze, watching carefully to see if he woke up. The moment felt an eternity long but Shiro finally resettled back into sleep and Keith was able to breathe. 

He relaxed and resumed sliding beneath the bed, settling flat on his back. The space beneath was tight but Keith could feel Shiro’s subtle movements. He shut his eyes, picturing the way Shiro shifted in his sleep and how he hugged his pillow tightly. Shiro seemed the type to be the big spoon – enjoying protecting his partner and wrapping around like a long-limbed octopus. He envisioned himself in the place of pillow and arousal flooded his pelvis. 

He couldn’t do anything about his arousal now, not without disturbing Shiro but he savored the feeling of being so  _ close _ . Shiro just above him, his body warming the bed, and Keith swore he could hear Shiro’s heartbeat.

Maybe the sound was just his own but he envisioned their hearts beating together. 

Entwining. 

“I love you,” he whispered his voice barely a breath. 

The sound of Shiro’s cat’s collar jingling ruined the moment and his hands clenched into fists while his arousal vanished with the sound. Black appeared by Shiro’s bedside, her eyes watching him warily. He gave her a dark look and hoped she didn’t give away his position. There was no explaining his way out of this situation. 

Black hissed and growled, making Keith stay frozen, wishing he could escape but the sound of Shiro waking kept him still beneath the bed. He gulped and waited while Shiro’s feet appeared on the floor by the bed and he could hear him yawn. 

“Black, what’s the matter?” Shiro asked sleepily. “There’s nothing under there, come up on the bed.”

Black kept staring at Keith, transfixed, and only stopped when Shiro reached down to pick her up and plop her on the bed. Keith let out a small breath, still holding his body extremely still while Shiro settled back onto his bed. 

“Go to sleep, Black,” Shiro mumbled and was quickly snoring softly after. 

Keith let out another relieved breath and settled down to close his eyes. In the morning, once he felt Shiro rise for the day, he would slip out and he would be none the wiser. Tonight, they would finally sleep together. 

Keith’s dreams were a mix of surreal and nightmarish but by morning he felt Shiro’s bed creak and then felt his feet hit the floor as he padded toward the bathroom. The room was dark with gray light and Keith didn’t know the time but once Shiro’s bathroom door shut, he wriggled out from under the bed and walked quietly back down the hall to make his home on the couch. The clock by the television said it wasn’t even 7:00, so Keith stretched back out on the couch to try and catch a few more moments of sleep before Shiro came to the living room. 

The apartment felt too quiet, even with Shiro making distant noise in the bathroom, but Keith missed the soft movement of the bed and the brag of his own heart. He missed the feeling of being so close to Shiro. 

The bathroom door opened and then he heard Shiro come down the hall, attempting to be quiet once he saw Keith on the couch. Keith remained still, staring at the back of the couch while he heard Shiro creep around his own apartment. Black meowed and jingled around the room, as well, while Shiro whispered something about feeding her. Keith finally sat up once he heard Shiro sit the cat bowl on the ground. 

“Oh, did I wake you?” Shiro asked once he saw Keith sitting upright.

“No, I was mostly awake,” Keith replied and then yawned.

“Sleep okay?” 

“Yeah, just a little… tired, I guess.” Keith hadn’t slept well but that was his own doing. Sleeping under a bed, while aesthetically pleasing, had not been physically comfortable. “Do you have class today?” 

“Yeah, in a little bit actually,” Shiro admitted. “You’re welcome to hang out if you want or you can leave. It’s up to you.” 

An open invitation. Shiro really was starting to trust him. “I have some things to do today but I can come back later.” 

“I’m studying with Matt later but I’ll text you,” Shiro said. 

Keith nodded and from Shiro’s tone, he could tell he was being dismissed so Shiro could ready for the day. “I’ll see you later then.” 

Shiro walked him to the door and soon Keith was back in his apartment while waiting for Shiro to go to class. He had errands to do but Shiro would have to leave in order to complete them. Keith paced his apartment quietly, snacking on cereal directly from the box and surveying the feed of Shiro’s apartment. 

Shiro left by 7:45, leaving Keith the opportunity to go inside. He gave Shiro until 8:00 and then he was sitting across from Shiro’s desktop computer. The background was now a stock photo of a galaxy and Keith smirked.

Shiro was moving on. 

Amazon was currently signed in so accessing his wishlist was easy. Buying gifts for his boyfriend made Keith giddy.  _ Knowing _ what kinds of gifts Shiro genuinely wanted was better than blind buying. The wishlist was vast but Keith wasn't’ complaining while he used his own Amazon app to make a separate list for Shiro’s wanted items. Clothing, cleaning products, art, cat items, movies, CD’s, books, food – the wishlist was well over thirty pages long but Keith painstakingly added each item into his phone. Mentally, he began to shop for Shiro and figure out what he was going to buy first. 

He’d start small.

A shirt and a box of wanted protein bars. Simple but Shiro wanted them and Keith could feel Amazon Prime burning a hole in his pocket. Money spent on Shiro would be worth the smile on Shir's face. 

By the time Keith finished copying Shiro’s wishlist, he noticed it was midday and he didn’t know what time Shiro would be home but he needed to leave soon.

The cat was sleeping on the couch when Keith left and the only thing keeping him from dumping the ugly animal was the knowledge Shiro would be suspicious. Maybe when they purchased a place of their own, Keith could convince Shiro to dump her. They could adopt a dog. 

If not, accidents happened every day. 

Dr. Balmera’s office was next on his list even if he felt tempted to cancel. She would start to worry if he canceled too much. The hour would fly by if he kept the topic to Shiro. 

Keith arrived at the appointment late but Dr. Balmera made no comment. The usual chair by the window sat turned 90 degrees so Keith could look outside but he felt daring and took a seat on the couch in front of her desk instead. They faced each other head on and the couch allowed him to lounge and sprawl more opening. 

Challenging. 

Confidence tasted sweet on the tongue; an aphrodisiac to his usual depressive moods. 

Dr. Balmera kept her face neutral but Keith saw surprise in her eyes. “You seem happy, Keith, I’m glad. May I ask what has put you in such a good mood?” 

“My boyfriend.” 

“So, you’re still seeing the same man– is that correct?”

“Yes.” Confidence rolled from his sugared tongue and infected the room. Nothing could ruin his mood. 

“May I ask his name?” Dr. Balmera asked.

“Why? Do you think I’m making him up?” 

“No–.” 

“Do you think I go home and fuck my hand and not my boyfriend’s amazingly  _ tight _ ass?” Keith asked his voice low as the thought alone aroused him. 

Dr. Balmera frowned and her cheeks colored. “Keith–.” 

Keith leaned forward in curiosity; a year of pandering and he’d managed to finally find her limit. “Am I making you uncomfortable, Dr. B?” He smiled slow and cruel. A slithering serpent in the grass. 

“Do you find my discomfort funny, Keith?” 

The slithering serpent spotted its prey – weak, defenseless. His smile grew. “Yes.” 

“Keith, are you taking your medication?” The question came out slow. Fearful.

“Which one?” 

“All of them, Keith. The Zoloft, Klonopin as needed, and the Zyprexa.” 

Ah. Zyprexa. Small. White. Round. 10mg.

Of all of the medications she had him hopped up on, Zyprexa was by far the worst. The last time he’d dared to swallow the awful pill, he’d found himself sitting in his living room unmoving for hours and unable to have a real thought process. The antipsychotic did nothing for him except making him someone else. Someone he didn’t want to be. 

“Keith? Are you taking your medication as prescribed?” Dr. Balmera asked again, her voice still containing a twinge of fear. Was she afraid he would lash out on her? Knowing she feared him gave him such pleasure and power. 

He owned her with his answers. 

“Do you think I’m not?” he asked. 

“I think you are not acting as you normally act and I’m concerned.” Dr. Balmera looked ready to stand up and call someone. She really feared him.

Keith finally sat back, leaning back against the couch, one arm draping across the back, his leg cross over his knee casually. “I’m just happy, Dr. B. Just  _ happy _ , happy,  _ happy _ . My boyfriend makes me happy.” 

“You haven’t answered my question, Keith. Your medication is very important, especially the Zyprexa. It’s  _ very _ important you take that drug as prescribed to you. Stopping it without warning can have serious side effects on your health.” Dr. Balmera stayed on edge, probably prepared to put furniture between the two of them even if he had no intention of becoming violent. Not today. 

Keith waved his hand dismissively. “I take it, calm down.”

“That is not very convincing, Keith. I’m concerned about you. You’re showing very erratic behavior like when you first came into my office three years ago. You’ve been discussing the fire and–.” 

“I haven’t brought up the fire,” Keith argued immediately, his fingers twitching. 

Dr. Balmera sighed. “I was afraid this would happen, Keith.” 

“Afraid  _ what _ would happen?” 

“You aren’t remembering everything we talk about. You aren’t remembering the things we discuss in our sessions or on the phone. You aren’t taking your medication. Keith, the fire that killed your parents happened many years ago. We’ve discussed this many times. I know you know that but you’ve convinced yourself lately it happened three years ago.”

Keith frowned and tried to make her words make sense. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No. You’re lying. It happened three years ago.” 

“Keith.” Dr. Balmera sighed again and stood up to walk to her desk and returning with a file, thick and heavy, and laying it down on the coffee table between them. “You called me earlier today and you were very frantic on the phone. Do you not remember calling me?” 

“I didn't call you earlier–.” 

Dr. Balmera pulled out her phone and showed him the call history. His name was listed at 7:30 in the morning. He didn’t remember calling her but she couldn’t fake a call record. 

“I was at my apartment at 7:30,” he whispered. 

“Yes, you were very upset. You kept saying something about how he didn’t love you? Someone doesn’t love you? Then you brought up the fire again. You hung up before I could really talk you through your panic and, unfortunately, I had clients I had to attend to and I apologize for not calling you back.” Dr. Balmera set her phone down and then opened up the large file. 

Keith leaned down to look at the file himself and saw there were news articles and clippings detailing a fire happening in 2002.  _ House Fire Claims Two Lives. Two Dead After House Fire. Fire Ruled As Accident _ . The headlines screamed at him and Keith saw his parents’ names listed more than once. His hands shakily picked up an article to skim but he tossed it back down unwanted after reading the first line. 

“You were fives years old when your parents died, Keith,” Dr. Balmera said gently. “The fire that happened three years ago was a different fire. It killed your uncle and your cousin but not your parents.”

He wanted to call her a liar. 

Scream in her face about the blasphemy she was spewing but he couldn’t bring any words to the surface. All vocabulary trapped inside a stunned mind and tied tongue. Five years old and he’d lost his parents and couldn’t even remember – he couldn’t even remember having a conversation this morning. What else had he told her and not remembered? 

“Have I called you any other times?” he asked quietly.   
  
“A few. Mostly late at night.” 

“What did I say?” 

Dr. Balmera paused thoughtfully. “Are you afraid you’ve said something you didn’t want me to hear?” 

“I don’t know,” he whispered, panic lilting his voice. 

“Keith, it’s alright.” Dr. Balmera reached over to shut the folder, hiding the offense from his eyes. “What you say to me is confidential and mostly it’s been about, I believe, your boyfriend. How you’re afraid he doesn’t love you or want you. Is he abusive to you? Has he ever hit you or touched you in a way you didn’t want?” 

“No,” Keith said with a shake of his head. “He’s nice to me… Usually.” 

“Usually?” 

“He laughed at me the other day. With his stupid friend. I don’t like being made fun of.”

“Understandably. Have you spoken to him about it?” 

He shook his head again and then frowned. “Wait– yes. I told him I didn’t like being made fun of. He hasn’t done it since. That I know of.” 

“ _ Good _ . You were also very distressed about your dog this morning. Is your dog alright? You kept telling me you’d lost him.” 

Keith covered his face with his hands, trying to recover from feeling suddenly alien. He was having conversations and couldn’t even remember having them. For all he knew, he could have told Dr. Balmera about shooting and killing Adam. He could have told her about where he’d put the body. He could have told her everything. 

“Um, I had to give him away,” Keith replied, trying to play catch up. “It wasn’t working out.” 

“I see.” Dr. Balmera nodded and took a few notes. For once, the note-taking didn’t bother him. “Keith, I need you to start taking your medication. Please, it’s for your own good. If the medication is bothering you, we just have to adjust it. When did you stop taking your pills?” 

A small wave of honesty filled him because of the fear filling his core. He shrunk on the couch and wrapped his arms around his middle even though the touch was still too much. He couldn't even remember the last time someone had ever hugged him willingly. “I quit taking the Zyprexa a long time ago,” he admitted. “I quit the Zoloft a few weeks ago… and the Klonopin I just… usually, don’t take it.”

“I’m going to write you a few prescriptions today, lower dosages, so we can start you all over again. I’ll check in with you in about six weeks and we’ll adjust from there but you  _ need _ to take these, Keith. I know it’s scary… being sick. It’s… it’s not your fault. Your brain has a severe chemical imbalance and that is  _ not _ your fault but I want to help you better yourself.” Dr. Balmera began to write on a little prescription pad. “Do you understand?” 

_ Do you understand _ ?

He didn’t like that question – it left a bitter taste in his mouth like he were a child again, and his parents were asking him if he understood why he was being punished. 

“I guess. I just… I don’t  _ want _ to take them,” he said fiercely. “They make me feel not like me. I feel… like a zombie. A shell. I don’t  _ want _ to feel that way. I’m  _ happy _ .” 

“You’re manic,” Dr. Balmera said quietly. “What you’re going through is a manic phase and we’re going to do our best to control it. The antipsychotic will help. You’ll start to feel better in a few days once you start taking the medicine again. You’ll feel more balanced, less anxious, and overall a lot healthier.” 

Keith nodded and sat still, feeling shamed.

The good mood no one could ruin had been ruined.

“Keith, I know this is hard to hear and I know you probably want to leave right now and not come back through that door. We’ve done this before a few times over the years and I can promise you, if you  _ stay _ on your medication, you  _ will _ get better.” Dr. Balmera passed him the prescriptions which he accepted quietly. 

“Can I go now?” 

“It’s your session, Keith. You never have to stay the full time if you don’t want to.” Dr. Balmera folded her hands in her lap and crossed her legs. 

Keith sank further down in his seat and suddenly remembered why he liked sitting away from her by the window. He always felt so intimidated and tired sitting in front of her like he was under a spotlight. Every flaw he had and every wrong word he said on full blast. Like high school but worse. 

“I don’t know what I want,” he admitted. “I don’t feel good.” 

Keith tried to rationalize everything he’d just learned – the phone calls, the fire – but nothing made sense. Life turned upside down and shaken all over the pavement. He was tired and his heart felt as if it had been dragged down the highway too fast. He needed a breather. 

“Do you want to take a break?” Dr. Balmera asked. 

Keith nodded and stood. He bolted from the room rushing back outside to stand by his car to take a few steadying breaths. Each gasp of oxygen came in labored and his hands kept shaking dangerously. 

_ She’s lying _ .  _ She’s lying. She’s lying. The fire happened three years ago and your parents died in that fire. She’s lying to you to control you. She wants to control you. You aren’t manic. You aren’t sick. _

_ Go home. _

Keith stared at the prescriptions in his shaking palms and ran his thumb over the names before stuffing them away in his pocket and climbing into his car to drive home. The apartment door gave way when he unlocked it to storm back to the bathroom and grab every orange prescription bottle he had and dumped each pill in the toilet to flush away. 

He didn’t  _ need _ the medication. 

He didn’t  _ need _ Dr. Balmera or her lies. 

All he needed was Shiro and his life would fall into place. Everything would click and fit beautifully like a puzzle. 

His phone buzzed and Keith saw Dr. Balmera was calling him but he declined the call and then blocked her number before deleting her contact information. He couldn’t call her in a panic if he didn’t the number memorized. With Dr. Balmera cut out of his life, Keith took a deep breath and felt relieved. No more lies from her poisonous tongue. 

He left the new prescriptions on the kitchen counter while searching the fridge for decent contents. Leftover Chinese would be acceptable for a snack. Carton in hand, Keith went back to his laptop so he could buy Shiro more gifts – screw small and subtle. 

He was Shiro’s  _ boyfriend _ and he wanted to spoil Shiro to death. 

Besides, he had plenty of money to burn.

 

 

* * *

  
  
  


“Hey, did you buy me a bunch of stuff from my wishlist?” 

Keith sat in front of his laptop, a wild smile on his face. Two-day shipping had all of Shiro’s packages at his door. Shirts, protein bars, movies, books, and Keith’s personal favorite, a brand new Surface Book. 

Shiro sat his phone down, on speaker, so he could open the boxes on his dining room table. “Matt–.” 

“I didn’t buy you anything. Maybe Adam’s coming out of the woodwork,” Matt replied. 

“I haven’t heard from him and I left him three voicemails and sent texts this morning but nothing,” Shiro continued while opening another box in clear confusion. 

“What about Kuron or your parents?” 

Shiro snorted. “Do you  _ really _ think my brother woke up one morning and just felt extremely generous and thought, ‘Hm, I wonder how I can make Takashi happy today’?”

“Fair… I don’t know, Shiro…” 

Brother? Shiro had a brother?

Keith tuned Matt out and pulled open Shiro’s Facebook profile to check his information. Kuron Shirogane listed under family and he cursed himself for not noticing earlier. Kuron’s profile revealed they weren’t just brothers – they were twins. Kuron had long hair and stubble on his jawline. He dressed somewhere between punk and sloppy. Listed to work at Rising Tides, a tattoo shop in L.A. 

Kuron was beautiful but Keith forced himself to refocus when he heard his name. 

“Keith?” Shiro was asking in disbelief. “What about him?” 

“The guy’s weird, Shiro. Obviously, he’s got a messed up childhood but he gives me the creeps.” 

“He’s not a bad guy,” Shiro argued and Keith’s chest felt warm when Shiro defended him. “Yes, he’s a little  _ off _ but we’re not exactly suave and cool ourselves, Matt.” 

“I’m just saying, I think you should be careful around him,” Matt continued. 

Shiro rolled his eyes. “He couldn’t have bought met his stuff because he doesn’t have access to my wishlist. You’re being paranoid.” 

“Well, when you end up dead and stuffed in your walls, I’ll know who to blame.” 

Keith bristled. He wouldn’t hurt Shiro – he  _ loved _ Shiro and just wanted them to be a happy family together. Matt was becoming more and more of a problem.

“Ha. Ha,” Shiro mumbled. “I have to go. I’m going to go to Adam’s apartment myself.” 

“Have fun.” 

Keith’s eyes widened and he launched from his seat to pull on jeans and a t-shirt. He ran down the hall, pulling his door open, and immediately freezing when he saw two police officers standing outside of Shiro’s door knocking. He pulled back but remained watching quietly with his door cracked open. 

“Good morning,” the first officer greeted when Shiro answered. “Are you Takashi Shirogane?” 

“Yes? Who are you?” 

“My name is Detective Iverson Mitchum, this is my partner Detective Thace Marmora. We just have a few questions for you.” 

“About what?” Shiro asked. Keith glimpsed his confused face when Iverson shifted on his feet. Sweat gathered on Keith’s brow. 

“Do you know Adam Grant?” Iverson asked.

“Yes,” Shiro admitted slowly. “I was his fiance.” 

“Was?” 

“He dumped me about a month ago.” 

“Where were you the night of October 4th?” 

“Uh… October 4th? I was in class,” Shiro said. “I have classes late on Thursdays. I didn’t get home until almost ten that night. Why?” 

“Adam Grant is missing. His mother reported him missing last week and we’re just following up on some leads. She told us that you two were in a relationship and she wasn’t sure if you knew his whereabouts,” Iverson explained slowly. “The last we know of Adam is he left his class and went to the student parking garage. We checked the security cameras but he was in a blind spot, we didn’t see anything amiss. We saw his car leave and that was the last anyone has heard from him.”

Shiro’s eyes widened. “Oh my God,” he whispered. “I– I was just about to go this apartment to check on him because he hadn’t called– oh my _ God _ .” The distress in Shiro’s voice left a stab wound in Keith's heart. 

“We checked his apartment, his dog is also missing, presumably with Mr. Grant. We don’t have any reasons to believe foul play is involved at the current time. We were just wondering if you knew where Mr. Grant would potentially go?” 

“Um… I don’t know,” Shiro admitted quietly. “I mean, Adam isn’t someone who would just take off without telling someone. Do you think something bad happened to him?” 

“We’re not sure, Mr. Shirogane. We’re hoping to find Mr. Grant but sometimes in missing adult cases like these… sometimes the missing person just simply doesn’t want to be found. Does Mr. Grant have any enemies that you know of?” 

“Enemies?” 

“Someone who may want to hurt him?” 

“ _ No _ ,” Shiro snarled. “Adam never hurt anyone or did anything to anyone! He was a good guy.” 

“Any ex-lovers you know of?” Iverson continued. 

“I was with him for seven years,” Shiro whispered. “We met in high school, I was his only boyfriend and I didn’t hurt him. I would  _ never _ hurt him. Oh my God–” Shiro covered his mouth, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. 

Iverson exchanged a look with his partner and nodded a little. “If you happen to hear from Mr. Grant, here’s my card, please give the number a call or if you hear any tips on his whereabouts.”

“Okay,” Shiro whispered, accepting the card Iverson held out. “I will…. Thank you, Officers.” 

“Have a good day, Mr. Shirogane.”

Keith shrank back more from the door when the policemen turned to leave, heading back toward the steps that led to the parking lot. Shiro remained in his doorway, holding the card, his hand still over his mouth. He looked so pale, Keith almost wanted to walk over and comfort him. Tell him he was okay and Adam was in a better place. 

But Shiro could never know about Adam. 

“Shiro?” he asked, slowly stepping out into the hall. 

Shiro jumped, his hand flying to his chest. “Christ, Keith. You scared me.” 

“Sorry. Is everything okay?” 

“No,” Shiro whispered, running a distressed hand through his hair and making the ends stand up all over the place. “Adam is missing and I have no idea what happened to him. He didn’t stand me up that night, he just… he was  _ gone _ .” 

“Maybe he went to see someone?” Keith suggested slowly. 

“No. Adam wouldn’t take off like this… Something bad happened to him. Oh my God, I said some awful shit about him and he’s– he might be–…  _ No _ . No, I can’t think like that. He’s not dead. He’s fine. The dog was missing, too, they said. He’s gotta be with Adam.” 

Keith gulped and slowly walked up to Shiro, his arms folded over his chest. “I’m sorry, Shiro.” 

“I can’t believe he’s missing. I can’t believe…. Fuck.” Shiro took a few deep breaths to try to steady himself but his panic only seemed to grow. “I have no idea where he would go or he would be with. He could be anywhere… What if someone hurt him or kidnapped him? But then, why would his  _ dog _ be missing?”

“I’m not sure,” Keith admitted quietly. 

“God!” Shiro bent over for a moment in complete distress before straightening upright. A few unchecked tears slipped down his cheeks. “I have to do something.” 

“Do what? The police are working on the case, Shiro, there’s nothing you can do,” Keith pointed out. “If Adam wanted to be found, he would have messaged you.”

“I can’t just  _ sit _ here,” Shiro snapped. “It’s like you don’t even want me to find him–.”

“Shiro, you’re being ridiculous,” Keith said angrily. “I’m just trying to point out that the police are handling it and if you go meddling, you could mess up their investigation. Right?”

Shiro flinched and nodded when he seemed to realize how insane he sounded. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Keith. I’m just really worried about him.” 

“I understand,” Keith said even though this conversation felt like barbed wire around his heart. Cutting and squeezing until the only emotion left was pain. “Do you want to hang out? Keep you distracted?” 

Shiro smiled a little and laid a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “You’re so nice to me, Keith but I have to go do some stuff today. I have to buy groceries and–.” 

“I don’t mind going with you,” Keith said quickly, hoping Shiro would spend more time with him. “I have nothing to do today.” 

“I… I just really want to be alone right now. Okay?” 

Rejection, round two. 

Keith nodded and took a few steps back. “Right, sorry. I’ll just go away.” 

“Keith–.” 

“It’s fine, Shiro.” It wasn’t fine but he couldn’t argue with Shiro when he was like this, so Keith went back to his apartment. Once the door shut, Keith walked down the hall to watch Shiro gather his stuff and leave. He would give Shiro a few minutes head start and then he would follow him. Just because Shiro said he wanted to be alone didn’t mean he had to  _ be _ alone.

They went to the grocery store not far from the apartment complex, Shiro even rode his bike over versus driving his car, so Keith had no choice but to follow him on his own bike as well, his camera bag strapped to his back. He snapped a few photos of Shiro from across the street when Shiro locked his bike up to head inside. Keith followed suit before slipping in through the front doors of the market. 

The place was small but sold a lot of organic products at a fair price. Shiro shopped here often as Keith had an entire folder on his laptop dedicated to Shiro at the market. He kept his distance, taking photos with his cell phone while in the store. He didn’t need someone drawing attention to him when his job was to blend in. Shiro grabbed a basket to start filling with fruits and vegetables; tomatoes, peaches, peas, kale, bananas, apples, bok choy, eggplant, cantaloupe, and grapes. Keith felt tempted to copy Shiro’s shopping habits but he didn’t want to drop cash on food he wouldn’t bother eating.

Keith followed Shiro along the market until he rounded the corner and froze when he saw Shiro and Matt standing together. His anger boiled when he saw Matt standing there, a smile plastered on his face, while they talked. Keith slithered closer so he could eavesdrop. 

“So, if I knew you were stalking me, I would have just invited you to come with me,” Matt teased Shiro with a laugh. “You okay? You look kinda pale.” 

“The police stopped at my apartment this morning. Adam is missing.” 

“ _ What _ ?” Matt gasped. “Holy shit… When was the last time you saw him?” 

“He was supposed to meet for pizza a few Fridays ago, remember?” Shiro asked. “But he never showed up?” 

“Right.” 

“He went missing the night previously. The last anyone saw him, he was leaving the student parking garage at EU. The police said his dog was missing, too, from his apartment. So, he took the dog but I don’t know where he’d go– what if something bad happened to him?” Shiro whispered, keeping his voice low so they didn’t attract people. 

“Didn’t you say  _ Keith _ had a dog that looked weirdly like Adam’s?” Matt asked. Keith felt his hands clenched into fists and his jaw pop. 

“What are you suggesting?”

“I’m just saying, that seems…  _ weird _ , right?” Matt said. 

Keith wanted to turn around and yell at Matt but he kept his eyes focused on the shelf he was staring blankly toward. Pasta. 2-for-1. 

“That wasn’t Adam’s dog,” Shiro whispered. “Why would you even fucking suggest that? What is your vendetta against this guy?” 

“Look, I did some digging, okay? Into him.” 

Keith perked up, listening harder than he had been previously. 

“And?” Shiro said. 

Matt lowered his voice. “That fire you said his parents died in? It happened in 2002 when he was five years old, not three years ago. Dude is fucking lying to you, Shiro. Playing you like a damn fiddle.” 

“Why would he lie about that?” 

“I have  _ no _ idea, I just know he’s a fucking liar, so God only knows what else he’s fucking lied about. Dude also has a criminal record. Petty theft, assault and battery, shoplifting–,” Matt said but Shiro cut him off. 

“That’s enough, Matt. Not everyone is squeaky clean like you, okay? Just, leave the guy alone. Maybe.. maye he has a reason for lying about the fire, hell, maybe he’s not even remembering it right. That’s a pretty fucking traumatizing thing to have happen to you,” Shiro said, turning to grab a few boxes. 

“I think you’re making excuses for someone who is clearly a liar and potentially dangerous because you like to see the good in people. The guy is potentially the next Jeffrey Dahmer and you’re just acting like he’s innocent as hell,” Matt snapped, clearly annoyed with Shiro now. 

“You don’t even know him, Matt.” 

“You don’t either.” 

“I know him better than you. He’s been nice to me–.” 

“He’s  _ obsessed with you _ . He’s like that little kid who writes Keith Shirogane on all of his notebooks and draws hearts around your picture. Please, stay away from him, I’m only saying his because you’re my friend and you’re vulnerable right now.” 

Shiro didn’t say anything else and then they parted ways. Keith remained in the aisle, pretending to pick out pasta and other things before shoving them back on the shelves to follow Shiro outside. He was putting a paper bag full of produce in the basket of his bike when Keith exited the market, keeping out of Shiro’s line of vision. 

Matthew Holt was officially a problem and needed to be removed. 

If Matt continued to taint Shiro’s view of him, Keith wasn’t sure if he could sway Shiro back into his good graces. He didn’t like to result in violence because violence would have been what Sendak would have wanted him to do but he had no choice now. Matt had forced his hand.

Instead of following Shiro back home, Keith turned to find Matt in the parking lot. He was stuffing groceries in his trunk when Keith went to survey him a few cars away. Matt would probably go home next so Keith decided to beat him to the task. He rushed back to his bike and headed back to the apartment complex, taking his bike to where he locked it beside Shiro’s, and headed upstairs to drop his camera bag off. 

Middle of the day he couldn’t go about picking locks on Matt’s apartment but that didn’t mean he couldn't simply be a friendly neighbor. When Matt pulled in, Keith waited until he was buried in his trunk before heading downstairs casually. 

“Hey, Matt,” Keith said, approaching slowly. Matt still jumped at the sound of his voice. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, I just saw you had a lot of stuff to carry and thought I’d offer to help out.” 

“Oh… Keith…” Matt looked at him suspiciously, shoving his glasses back up his nose. “Um, I mean… I can do it–.”

“I don’t mind. I was about to head out but it’s not important.” Keith shrugged and tried to appear as docile as possible. 

“Uh… Okay. Sure.” Matt handed Keith some bags and together they went upstairs toward Matt’s apartment. “Just set them down on the table when we get inside.” 

“Sure.” 

Matt opened the door and Keith followed Matt inside. The apartment was nowhere near as clean as Shiro’s. In fact, it was a complete disaster but Keith did his best to ignore that in favor of making sure the door was shut behind him. Keith set the groceries down as Matt said, his eyes on where Matt was standing by the fridge. 

“Thanks for the help,” Matt called over his shoulder. 

Keith removed a knife from his waistband and quietly crossed the room, standing behind Matt quietly. “It was my pleasure,” he replied before sinking the knife into Matt’s neck.

He’d learned to slaughter livestock at an early age, learning to kill humanely and quickly. People were exactly the same. Keith removed the blade and backed away from Matt as his blood quickly began to pour from the wound. Matt stumbled, his hand flying to his neck as he turned around to stare at Keith in shock. He opened his mouth but blood choked his voice away, coloring his lips pink and red. 

Keith watched coldly while Matt collapsed to the floor, dragging dishes with him as he reached to grab his phone from the counter. The iPhone clattered to the floor, its screen cracking on impact, while Matt’s blood poured on the linoleum. Keith took a few steps back, the knife in his hand dripping blood on the floor to mingle with Matt’s as he continued to bleed out. Matt gargled and gasped, still attempting to reach his phone but Keith nudged it with his boot, sending it across the room to jut up against the wall. 

“You made do this,” Keith whispered. “You should have just kept your fucking mouth  _ shut _ .” 

Matt stared up at him until Keith saw the life fade from his eyes. He turned to go, his eyes falling on Matt’s dog who growled at him as he came around the corner. Keith stomped his foot at the dog, making him back off, before tucking the knife back into his waistband and leaving the apartment behind. 

Matt taken care of, Keith felt better when he walked back to his apartment, whistling and opening the door. He cleaned the knife and chucked the clothing he wore into a garbage bag to take to burn at work. The only other problem he now had left was Adam. 

The police were trying to find him and if he’d made any mistakes along the way, he needed to correct them quickly before the police came sniffing at his doorstep. Adam’s body was still presumably in the fridge at the junkyard but paranoia ate his resolve alive. 

He would have to go down there before he started his shift at midnight. He knew what he had to do and the thought alone made him gag but he turned to pack a bag with his rubber gloves and he went to the closet to dig out large hunting knives, stuffing them in the bag as well. He dragged an unused tarp outside to line his trunk with the heavy duty plastic, dumping his duffle bag and more garbage bags and duct tape alongside the supplies. 

Yorak’s collar glared up at him from the trunk and Keith’s eyes widened as he realized he’d kept the dog’s collar and tags. Mistake number one. Heart pounding heavily for a moment, Keith stuffed the collar into a trash bag so he didn’t forget to burn it along with Adam’s remains. 

Tonight, his problems would end. 

Tonight, he could start his life with Shiro in peace. 

 

* * *

  
  


The junkyard was more silent than a graveyard when Keith pulled through the gates. He remembered the path, his eyes falling on the stark white refrigerator, still jutted against old car parts. Without security lights, Keith would have to work in the dark but he supposed it was better than having lights spotlight his every move. 

The smell hit him before even opening the door. Adam’s corpse slumped forward, partially falling out of the fridge, the body bloated and discolored. Keith turned away to gag and retch on the ground as the thought of the germs covering the corpse transferring to his clothes filled him with dread. He’d have to burn these clothes, too, he realized before dragging the rest of the corpse to the ground. 

Keith wrapped the bottom of his face with a scarf to block out some of the smell and dragged the large hunting knives from his bag to start hacking through bone and sinew. The process felt a lot like cleaning and dismembering livestock for meat. He tried to keep his thoughts in that vein – livestock. He was dismembering livestock. 

Keith hacked away through the corpse systematically. He started at the end and worked his way to the top, wrapping parts in heavy duty plastic to dump into trash bags. The process left his clothes and gloves disgusting and the ground stained with bodily fluid but Keith dragged the trash bags one by one to his trunk. He had no idea if the smell would ever leave considering he had to drive six hours back to where he worked and he was definitely going to be late to work but he’d already called to tell his boss he wasn’t sure what time he would be in. His manager could care less as long as the job was done before morning. 

Keith stuffed the gloves into yet another trash bag and cleaned the knives before finally slamming the trunk shut and heading back to the crematorium. He arrived to work an hour late but no one paid him any mind while he brought his cleaning cart to the back door. The trash bags made the cart heavy and took a lot of effort to push it back inside but Keith wheeled it quietly toward the furnace room.

The putrid smell of rotting corpse burned the insides of his nose until it was the only scent he could identify while loading the trash bags one by one to put inside the furnace. His clothes were next as he stripped unceremoniously down to his underwear to toss them in with the bags and changed into his uniform. Suddenly thankful for security guards with zero care in the world, Keith turned the furnace on and watched as the evidence of the murder committed burned away. 

No body. No evidence.

The police would never find Adam now and they would probably continue to rule him as a missing person case. There was no reason to think he’d been shot and killed. Matt was gone. Adam was gone. Dr. Balmera could no longer contact him. 

Shiro now only had  _ him _ to rely on and the thought made Keith smile. They would be so happy together.

Keith resumed whistling and wheeled his now empty cart from the furnace room to start cleaning the facility. In the morning, he would stop by Shiro’s apartment to see if he wanted to have breakfast together. Maybe, he would finally invite Shiro to his place. Keith smiled. 

He pulled out his phone to send Shiro a text even though the hour was late. 

 

_ → breakfast tomorrow? On me  _

 

He went to tuck his phone away but was surprised to receive a reply. 

 

**← That sounds nice Keith :) what time will you be home?**

_ → by 6 _

_ → you can come over if you want. To my place. I can make waffles. It’s the only thing I’m good at lol  _

**← sure i have to be in class by 8 but that sounds awesome thanks again for being so kind especially when I’ve been a dick. I’m sorry about earlier for snapping at you. I know you were just trying to help. I’m just so worried about Adam :(**

**_→_ ** _ I know I understand. I’ll see you in the morning get some sleep!  _

**← i’ll try :) have fun at work ;)**

 

Keith snorted and rolled his eyes but he couldn’t ease the smile from his face for the rest of the night. Everything was lining up perfectly. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit be unraveling faster than a yarn ball

Waffles were the only breakfast food he knew how to cook well and only because he had a waffle iron. Shiro had sent him a text about having a quick errand and then he’d be right over which was fine since Keith had waffles to make. By the time Shiro showed up, there was a stack going and the batter was almost used up. 

Keith answered the door with a smile and Shiro returned the gesture. He looked filled out in a tight black t-shirt and joggers. Keith definitely appreciated the look. 

“Good morning, Keith,” Shiro said cheerfully. “Smells good.” 

“Thank you. Make yourself at home.” 

Keith kept his apartment neutral and clean with few personal items. The walls were blank but he did have many bookcases filled with movies, books, and manga. 

“Wow, your collection is bigger than mine,” Shiro commented while surveying Keith’s films. “Really like horror, don’t you?” 

“Yeah, they’re my favorite,” Keith admitted. 

“I’m too big of a wimp to watch on my own,” Shiro laughed. “I need a viewing buddy.” 

“Well, if you’re ever feeling brave,” Keith said slowly.

Shiro smiled and came to sit at the table. “I know who to call.”

Keith brought the waffles over, along with syrup and butter. The table already set with place settings so they were ready. Shiro helped himself to two waffles so Keith copied, and a comfortable silence settled on them. 

Being able to sit in each other’s company was nice and Keith appreciated how they were so deeply connected. Shiro treated him so  _ well _ , even when there were hiccups occasionally, Shiro was still a wonderful boyfriend.

Partner. 

Soulmate.

“So, tell me about your brother,” Keith said, suddenly curious about Kuron. How twin-like were they and what was the likelihood he could have a matching set. 

Shiro paused with his fork halfway between his plate and mouth. “What?”

Keith glanced up from pouring more syrup on his waffles. “Your brother? What’s he like? Are you guys total opposites or do you have that freaky twin thing down?” 

The air in the room shifted dramatically from comfortable to uncomfortable when Shiro set his fork down and seemed perturbed. “I never told you I had a brother,” he said slowly, his voice quietly loud in the disturbed space. “How did you find that out?” 

Dread settled over Keith as a wet, suffocating blanket. He stared blankly for a minute, trying to think fast and rectify the slip-up. “I… I was helping Matt carry groceries yesterday and we were talking – he mentioned you’d received all this  _ stuff _ . He thought maybe your twin brother did it. His name is Kuron, right?” 

Shiro stared at him, probably assessing his story before finally relaxing. “Oh, Matt… Wow, here I thought you had some freaky psychic powers.” 

“No, just Matt.” 

Shiro shook his head a little. “Kuron’s a tattoo artist out in L.A. We don’t talk as much as we used to. He hated Adam, and he and I never really saw eye to eye on his lifestyle but Kuron’s a good guy.” 

“He sounds it, especially if he bought you a bunch of stuff.” 

“Wasn’t him. I have  _ no _ idea who bought me that stuff… I mean, it was stuff I  _ wanted _ but there was no note, no return address, nothing at all. Amazon told me to change my passwords and I deleted my whole wishlist.” 

Keith frowned at his plate, picking bits of waffle with his fork. “Did you not like the stuff?” 

“I mean, it had nothing to do with liking anything. A random person sending you stuff? Weird, right?” Shiro took a bite and then a sip of orange juice. “Anyway, I returned everything this morning.”  

The sound of Keith’s fork bouncing from his plate to the floor was as startling as a gunshot. He apologized and went to put the dirty fork in the sink. Keith hovered in the kitchen momentarily as he was consumed with the knowledge of Shiro not wanting his gifts. He hadn’t liked them and sent them back. 

“You okay?” Shiro asked when Keith rejoined the table. 

Keith stabbed his waffle viciously with a clean fork. “When exactly did you return everything?” 

“Before I came over. Why?” 

When he’d been cooking so he’d missed the action on the feed. “Oh.” 

“Keith, are you okay? You’re acting weird.” 

He had to clear his face and shove his hurt aside before Shiro became too suspicious. Shiro didn’t know the gifts were from him, after all. “I’m fine. Just processing.” 

“Okay…” Shiro took another waffle. “These are really good.” 

“I make the batter myself,” Keith said. A change in subject was good. 

“Yeah? Who taught you that?” 

“My mom… She loved pancakes and waffles.” Keith swirled syrup with his fork as Dr. Balmera’s words reminded him how he’d lost her at five years old and not three years ago. 

He supposed that explained his fading memory for her. 

“When… When did you say they died again?” Shiro asked quietly. 

Tears filled Keith’s eyes. He didn’t want Dr. Balmera to be right but in a moment of clarity, he knew it was all true. He could remember the fire – he could remember everything. “When I was five,” he whispered. “They were suspicious about Sendak touching me and… I just remember coming home from school and the shack beside our house was burning down.” 

“Fuck…” 

“Sendak picked me up and– and–.” Keith cut off when his voice cracked at the emotional memory. 

“Take your time.” 

“He told me it was  _ my _ fault they were dead – that I should have kept my mouth shut,” Keith remembered how Sendak would remind him constantly it was his own fault his parents were dead. He  _ had _ to kill them and if Keith hadn’t said anything they would still be alive. 

Five years old and he’d signed his parents’ death warrants. 

Shiro calmly slipped their hands together. “It wasn’t your fault. Your uncle was a bad man.  _ You _ are not at fault.”

Tears ran down Keith’s cheeks and mingled with waffles and syrup. “I know I told you it happened a few years ago and I thought it  _ had _ – I swear, I didn’t mean to lie about this.” Of all the lies he’d spun around Shiro, this was not one he’d wanted to create. 

“It’s okay. You were traumatized, Keith. It’s how your memory coped with the trauma. I know you weren’t trying to lie.” Shiro squeezed his hand. 

The tears trailed off, leaving Keith raw and feeling as exposed as a butterflied shrimp. He pulled out of Shiro’s grip to wipe his face. Post-tears, he felt empty and cold. “Sorry, I'm a mess.” 

“It’s okay,” Shiro whispered gently. “New subject?” 

“Please.” 

“Okay.” Shiro retreated into his space. “Um, Matt signed me up for this stupid speed-dating thing, so I’m going to  _ that _ tonight.”

Whiplash did not even  _ begin _ to describe how Keith’s emotions felt this morning. From Shiro dumping his gifts to his mom to  _ this _ – Shiro going  _ speed _ -dating when he had  _ him _ ? Especially when Shiro had  _ just _ told him he wasn’t ready to date. 

“Speed-dating,” Keith repeated flatly. 

“Yeah. I know it’s  _ stupid _ but Matt’s right. I should really put myself out there, you know? So, I figure I'll go, get some numbers, and see where it goes.” Shiro snatched up a new waffle. “ _ So _ good.” 

“I thought you said you weren’t ready to date.”

“I mean, I’m not but this isn’t  _ serious  _ dating. It’s just fun.”

Keith desperately wanted to put Shiro off of the idea. He didn’t  _ need _ someone else. “What if it’s awful and awkward? What if it’s a bunch of women?” 

Shiro snorted. “Matt said it was for queer men, so that shouldn’t be an issue but it  _ is _ primarily for undergraduates, so I may end up in a room full of horny freshman.  _ That _ would be awkward.”

“I don’t think you should go,” Keith said firmly. 

“Look, I appreciate the concern but I’m going. I’m sure it’ll suck but I’m still going.” 

“Then why go?” 

“ _ Keith _ .” 

From Shiro’s tone, Keith knew he was pushing too hard. 

“I’m becoming very tired  _ and _ concerned about having the same conversation with you about the prospect of us dating. Please,  _ stop _ bringing it up or trying to keep me from dating.” Shiro pushed his plate back. “I’m done. You make me tired.” 

The words were like a gun to his head.

_ You make me tired _ . 

_ You’re too much, boy _ . 

Different sides of the same coin. Same results. 

Keith did not have parting arguments so he just let Shiro go. In the wake of Shiro’s absence, the quiet was crushing. Every outside noise – keys jingling in the hall, footsteps on the stairs, traffic in the distance – were loaded bullets in an oversensitive gun. 

Keith sat at the kitchen table until he realized his eyesight was fading – no, the sun was going down. The mess from breakfast still existed as evidence to the day’s earlier ruination. Shiro was probably still speed-dating but for once, Keith didn’t care to know Shiro’s whereabouts. He pulled away from the table and lumbered back to the bedroom. The feed showing Shiro’s apartment was empty so Keith closed the laptop, turned his back on the mural, and laid down on his bed.

Sleep was a merciful lover. 

 

* * *

  
  
  


Five days later and the hallway smelled badly with the stench emanating from 2B. Keith had hardly left his room since Shiro’s harsh words at breakfast, only dragging himself to shower and work before returning to his dark bedroom. He hadn’t even opened the feed in five days to watch Shiro. 

_ You make me tired _ . 

The words were tattooed across his corneas while sleep evaded him until the bags under his eyes resembled black craters.  _ You make me tired _ played on repeat, driving his mind off of cliffs and dangerously close to suicidal temptations. Maybe Shiro was better off without him. Maybe everyone was better off without him. 

Keith glanced at the mural on his wall and flinched.

Why did Shiro hate him  _ so _ much and why was nothing he ever did good enough? Why couldn’t Shiro notice him? His mind spiraled downward into a pit of despair until a scream from the hallway made him sit up in full alarm. Keith threw his blankets to the floor and rushed from his room, wincing at the bright light of his apartment. He could hear someone panicking in the hallway – no, not just someone.    
Shiro. 

When Keith opened the door, Shiro was in the hall, fumbling for his phone while gagging. His socks were covered in coagulated blood. Matt’s apartment door stood open and his dog was running around Shiro helplessly. 

He’d forgotten about Matt. 

“Shiro,” Keith said, making Shiro jump. Matt’s dog ran back into the apartment. Keith held up his hands cautiously. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

“M– _ Matt _ ,” Shiro sobbed and slid down the hall to crouch and cry. His phone clattered to the ground while he covered his face with shaking hands. “Oh my  _ God _ , oh my  _ God _ – he’s– he’s  _ dead _ .” 

Keith glanced inside the apartment but the smell made him gag. “Shiro, did you call 911?” 

“I–.” Shiro cut off into hysterics again so Keith picked up Shiro’s phone to call for help. A small thrill ran through him as he realized Shiro had tampered with the crime scene. He had to clear the smirk on his face before making the call. No sense in sounding smug while reporting his own murder scene. 

“911, what’s your emergency?”

Keith pictured Shiro saying,  _ You make me tired _ , to work into a respectable panic attack. “Um– my neighbor, he was freaking out and– and– our friend – he’s  _ dead _ .” 

“Sir, are you with him right now? Are you sure he’s–.” 

“The apartment smells,” Keith whispered, panic lilting his voice. “I didn’t see– I’m scared to go inside. My friend has blood on his socks–.” 

“Okay, Sir, we’re sending first responder units to your location, okay? Can you stay on the phone?” 

Keith ended the call once he knew the police were coming. Shiro was still sobbing and despite his own hurt, Keith decided to be the bigger person and sit down beside Shiro, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “They’re coming, Shiro. It’ll be okay.  _ I’m _ here.” 

Shiro buried his face in Keith’s neck and continued to sob until the police and the EMT’s arrived. Keith remained by Shiro’s side until the police ushered them both from the scene while they quickly taped off the apartment and labeled it a crime scene. 

Shiro sat with a blanket around his shoulders given by the EMT’s and Keith stood beside him protectively. At first, he thought the police being nearby would upset him but they had the exact opposite effect – he was thrilled. Almost aroused.

Detective Iverson approached them slowly. “Mr. Shirogane, you’re the one who found him?” 

Shiro nodded, his eyes down on the ground. “I hadn’t heard from him in days and then everything started to smell. I could hear his dog barking…” 

“How did you get inside?” 

Shiro sniffed. “I have a spare key,” he whispered brokenly. “There was… so much  _ blood _ . Someone– Someone murdered him!” 

Keith placed a steadying hand on Shiro’s shoulder to offer comfort. 

“We don’t have a cause of death yet due to his corpse being partially… consumed, but did Matt have any enemies?” Iverson asked and Keith was reminded of the conversation they’d had about Adam. 

Keith wondered if Shiro would become a person of interest. 

“ _ No _ ,” Shiro said vehemently. “Matt was a good guy! We went to school together. He never hurt anyone.” 

“No ex-lovers? Angry family members?” 

“No,” Shiro insisted. “I have no idea who would do this.” 

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Shirogane,” Iverson said. “And who are you?”

“This is Keith,” Shiro answered. “My friend.” 

Depression lifted away at Shiro calling him _ friend _ . Their red string only bonded and tangled further. 

“I called 911,” Keith supplied. “Shiro was too upset.” 

Iverson gave him a once over and then turned to go. 

“Officer,” Shiro called. 

“Yes?”

“Have you heard more about Adam?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Iverson said. “But we’re still looking.”

Shiro’s shoulders slumped and he nodded sadly. “Thanks anyway.” 

Iverson walked off to go and speak with more officers while Keith turned to look at Shiro again. “Shiro, it’ll be alright. I promise.” 

“ _ How _ ? Matt’s dead, Adam’s  _ missing _ , and… I mean.. I… This is too much. I don’t know what is going on but it’s too much.” Shiro ran his hands through his hair in distress, pushing it all over the place. 

“Just take a breath. You need to stay calm.” Keith reached over to gently pet Shiro’s hair even if Shiro’s words still haunted his memory. He desperately wanted asylum within an apology but he knew he may never receive one.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Shiro drew in a deep breath but also pulled out Keith’s touch. “Fuck, I just can’t believe someone murdered him.” 

“Maybe it was a burglary gone wrong,” Keith suggested feeling the sting of Shiro’s rejection. 

“Maybe. I don’t know…. Where have you been the past five days?” Shiro looked at him then curiously as if he’d committed some sort of crime. 

Keith returned the look with a frown. “What?”

“I just realized you’ve been missing for like five days now. I haven’t seen you or heard from you.” 

Had Shiro missed him? Had Shiro truly noticed he was gone or was this all just coming to him in the now? “Um, I was really upset,” he said evenly, eyes casting down.

“Upset?” 

“By what you said to me at breakfast.” He crossed his arms over his chest because confrontation had never been a strong suit. He didn’t want to confront Shiro about this but if he wanted an apology, he may have to go fishing. 

“What I said to you?” Shiro asked and his head tilted as he tried to think back. 

“ _ You make me tired _ ,” Keith repeated in the most monotone voice he could muster. 

Shiro’s eyes squinted as he tried to remember and then his face flooded with recognition and his eyes widened as he seemed to realize the full consequences. “Keith…” 

“It’s okay,” he said quickly. “I’m used to it.” 

Shiro’s face winced and he looked sheepish. “Keith, I’m so sorry. I was just…  _ upset _ with you and I said something I  _ never _ should have said to you. Especially not when you’ve done really nothing except be a good friend.” 

“It’s fine, Shiro.” 

“It’s  _ not _ fine.” Shiro grabbed his hands and squeezed them as he held on. “I turned into one of those people who have torn you down and hurt you. I don’t want to be one of those people. I’m so sorry, Keith.” 

Keith smiled slightly and nodded. He would accept Shiro’s apology. “As long as you didn’t mean it.” 

“I  _ didn’t _ . You don’t make me tired, at all! I’m so sorry I put that idea in your head. It’s not true. You don’t have to hide from me. We’re friends and… and now I’m really going to need you.” Shiro squeezed his hands one more time and slowly let go. 

“I’m always here for you Shiro,” he whispered. Joy filled him at Shiro’s heartfelt apology. They were okay and things would start looking up again soon, especially with Matt out of the way. No more spreading doubts. 

“Thank you, Keith. I appreciate you so much more than you know.”

Keith half smiled. He wished Shiro would appreciate him more out loud but he could keep waiting. Eventually, he would stop only giving and finally receive. He just had to be patient.

 

* * *

  
  


“Okay but you have to hold still,” Shiro chuckled while quietly painting something on Keith’s cheek. 

They were both drunk and sitting in Shiro’s living room late at night on the floor. He wasn’t sure whose idea it had been to try face painting but the brush tickled his cheek and he couldn’t stop trying to pull away. 

“You’re gonna mess it up,” Shiro whined. 

“Then stop  _ tickling _ me,” Keith argued right back, sitting knee to knee with Shiro. They were so close and he desperately wanted to curl up in Shiro’s lap. Drunk, he was soft and gentle, not so many sharp glass edges. “You’re so beautiful, Shiro.” 

Shiro giggled and set his paintbrush down and held up a mirror. “Tada.” 

Keith accepted the mirror to check out whatever design Shiro had attempted for him but it mostly looked like a blob. “What is it?” 

“It’s a butterfly. Sorta. Maybe not. Fuck.” Shiro laughed and leaned back against the couch, his knees splayed open. “Man, I haven’t been this drunk in a while.” 

“Me neither,” Keith muttered quietly, his eyes between Shiro’s thighs. The gray sweatpants Shiro had on did not exactly hide anything and he could feel his arousal heat up between his legs. 

“You ever been drunk  _ and _ horny?” Shiro asked and laughed again, his face a lovely shade of pink. 

“Yeah. You drunk and horny?” 

“I haven’t had sex in  _ so _ long. Fuck.” Shiro ran his hand between his legs and squeezed the outline of his dick. “The last time was with Adam and I don’t even fucking remember when that was.” 

Keith watched Shiro touch himself, his eyes wide, and pupils growing with arousal. “Do you want to have sex?” he asked and then laughed. “Wait, you said no before.” 

Shiro laughed, too, the alcohol making them both giggly and loose. “I just wanna get  _ off _ .” 

Keith decided to take the matter into his own hands and he eased close to Shiro, putting his hand over Shiro’s hardening arousal, squeezing him through the thin sweats. Shiro’s eyes grew wide and his cheeks turned a deeper shade of magenta. 

“Keith–,” Shiro whispered but he didn’t stop Keith’s advances either. “Fuck.” 

Keith smiled and kissed Shiro once, putting his hand down Shiro’s pants to start stroking his cock and pulling him to completely hard. Shiro kissed back and moaned into Keith’s mouth, his chest arching into the affection. Shiro was big, his cock heavy and thick in Keith’s palm. He jerked him fast, leaving them both moaning and gasping. 

“Fuck,” Shiro gasped again when Keith had him right on the edge. “Oh, fuck, Keith. I’m gonna– I’m gonna come– Oh God–.” 

Keith moaned and moved his wrist faster, desperately wanting Shiro to come because of him. Shiro cried out when he spilled over Keith’s hand, staining his sweats obviously. Keith looked down, even pulling his sweatpants down just enough to see the way his cock twitched and how the head was flushed pink and shiny with fluid. 

“Holy  _ fuck _ ,” Shiro gasped, his head falling back on the couch. “Holy  _ fucking  _ shit.” 

Keith withdrew his hand and licked it clean while Shiro recovered. Shiro tasted as good as Keith had always figured. He supposed it paid for Shiro to be a health nut. “Was that good?” Keith asked. He was sobering quickly and he couldn’t believe Shiro had let him jerk him off. 

“Yeah,” Shiro panted with a soft laugh. “Fuck, yeah, that was  _ great _ .” 

After Matt had been discovered by Shiro, they’d spent a lot of time together. Keith helped Shiro through his mourning period and made sure he had food to eat and was taking regular showers and having regular meals. He helped Shiro study for his tests and kept his mind off of the impending investigation. 

The police had yet to figure out who had murdered Matt as the crime scene was horribly contaminated by the dog and Shiro. The dog had also consumed a large part of Matt’s face, which didn’t help the coroner in any capacity. Shiro had considered adopting Matt’s dog but Matt’s sister Katy had come to take the dog away. 

Now, it was just the two of them. 

Shiro and Keith. 

Keith and Shiro. 

“You want more?” Keith asked and hoped Shiro said yes. He wants Shiro to say yes and let him into his inner workings. He wants to have a chance to prove he can be a great lover for Shiro.

Shiro sat still and stared up at the ceiling for a moment, his head tilted back against the couch. “I don’t know,” Shiro whispered. “Probably shouldn’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because we’re not together… and I don’t want to lead you on.” Shiro looked at Keith then, giving him a kind of apologetic look. “I’m probably leading you on right now, fuck, I’m sorry. I’m just so lonely.” 

Keith wanted to point out Shiro didn’t  _ have _ to be lonely, not when he had Keith to call on, but he knew Shiro’s choice. His own arousal quickly died and he pulled away, wanting to scrub his skin and hands clean of Shiro’s taint.  “It’s okay,” he replied quietly. 

“Keith, you’re a nice guy but we’re just friends. I just want to stay friends with you. I thought… I thought about dating you but I think it’s just better if we’re friends. You know?” Shiro asked. “Is that okay? Can we just be friends?” 

 

Keith’s fingers spasmed where they rested on his thighs but he feels himself nod anyway. “Sure, Shiro. We can just be friends.”

“ _ Great _ . You’re so good to me.” Shiro slid his hand over to Keith’s back and rubbed in light circles. “I want more vodka, what about you?” 

Keith considered watching Shiro grow drunker and then pushing the envelope with him but that was too close to how his uncle used to treat him and he couldn’t do that to Shiro. “No, I think I should go home,” he said quietly. 

“Oh.” 

“I’m just tired and… Tired.” He didn’t know how to say he was upset by Shiro’s words. It was all so ridiculous because they were clearly meant to be and Shiro was an excellent boyfriend, he just needed to guide Shiro into the light. “Is that okay?”

“Sure,” Shiro replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah.”  _ Maybe _ . Keith stood and slowly walked out of Shiro’s apartment, grabbing his boots along the way. He half stumbled and walked, his eyes suddenly heavy with a need to sleep. 

Tomorrow, he would have a better day. 

Tomorrow, he would continue to guide Shiro into his life. 

 

* * *

  
  


The cops found Adam’s car. 

Keith remembered leaving the car in a place he knew would junk the vehicle without asking questions which was why he was seething while sitting on his couch, shoving Fruit Loops in his mouth. His biggest slip up because they would soon find his DNA in the car and start asking questions. 

Questions he couldn't afford to have asked.

Dr. Balmera showed up at his apartment a while later. He didn’t answer the door and figured she would just leave but what surprised him was when he heard her voice on Shiro’s feed. He immediately jumped to pay attention, his eyes trained on where they sat in Shiro’s kitchen.

“I apologize for my intrusion, Mr. Shirogane, but I’ve been so worried about Keith. I thought you might have some insight. I know we don’t know each other and I can’t give out details but I worry Keith could be a risk to himself– being his boyfriend, I thought you could put me at ease.” 

Shiro paused as he slowly handed her a cup of tea. “Boyfriend?” 

“Yes, he told he has a boyfriend, he called you Shiro, and I know I probably overstepped by tracking you down,” Dr. Balmera continued. “And I apologize if–.”

“I’m  _ not _ his boyfriend,” Shiro said sharply. “If he’s telling you that, he’s lying to you.” 

A flash of anger filled Keith at Shiro’s vehement tone. Why was Shiro always so ashamed of him? He would let Keith feel him up but he wouldn’t admit to dating or liking Keith in return? He bought Shiro gifts, he took care of Shiro’s problems, he did  _ everything _ right. 

He was a good boyfriend and Shiro should consider himself  _ lucky _ to have him.

“Oh,” Dr. Balmera said in surprise. “I apologize, Mr. Shirogane. He’s just mentioned you so often. I admit he’s only given your name over hysteric phone calls but he’s very adamant about your relationship.”

“There is  _ no _ relationship– Fuck. I’ve told him over and over I don’t want to date him. He just agreed to be friends.” Shiro ran a distressed hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry– I haven’t spoken to Keith in a few weeks so it has been some time since he last mentioned you or called you his boyfriend. Keith does have a penchant to believe things that are not real,” Dr. Balmera said which made Keith’s jaw pop.

“I’m not dating him. He’s been… Fine, I guess? After Matt’s death, he’s been my only friend.” 

Keith felt his hands clenched into fists. Even with Shiro admitting their friendship, his anger still boiled over Shiro’s  _ constant _ denial. He could make Shiro so happy if he’d just  _ let  _ him. 

"I worry he may not be taking his medication if you could tell him to call me.”

Shiro nodded. “I have a date tonight but when I see him.” 

“ _ Thank _ you, Mr. Shirogane.” 

A date. 

Shiro had a date. 

Hurt and anger mingled as bitter lovers in Keith’s mouth. Dr. Balmera left and Keith debated on his next steps.

Shiro was in denial and cheating. 

Keith worried when the time came, Shiro would not cooperate and he needed a backup plan, especially since the cos were going to start sniffing around. He also needed to take care of Dr. Balmera. Keith gathered his belongings and began to pack a bag with vital items. He would leave the rest. 

He had to act fast so Keith pulled tin cans full of cash from his closet and drove to a used car lot where he was quick to trade his car for a large, utility fan. The rape van, he recalls they were called in high school. 

Keith knows his plan is sloppy but it’s the best he has thinking on his feet. After the car lot, Keith drove to Sears to purchase a deep freezer chest with a padlock. The salesman doesn’t bat an eye when Keith uses his credit card to purchase the appliance or when they load it in Keith’s new van. 

The penultimate stop consisted of Keith stopping at the self-storage units. Again, Keith used his credit card and with local help, the freezer quickly has a new home. Once plugged in, Keith knew it would take time to freeze but he still had one stop to make. 

On the way to Dr. Balmera’s office, Keith tried to talk himself out of the decision but his hand had already been on so many triggers he may as well have called himself God. 

Keith walked into Dr. Balmera’s office and he sat patiently while the secretary told Dr. Balmera he was in. He didn’t have to wait long and soon he sat in his usual seat by the window. 

“Keith, I am  _ very _ glad to see you,” Dr. Balmera said. “I’ve been so worried–.” 

“I killed my uncle and cousin,” he said. Speaking the words out loud felt good. 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“They raped me earlier that day and I was lying in bed thinking about killing myself but I thought that wasn’t fair when I’d done nothing wrong, so I went to Sendak’s room and found his gun.” 

“Keith–.” 

“They were downstairs, drunk, and I shot Lotor first.” Keith aimed his fingers like a gun and the memory reverberated in his mind. “Bang. Back of the head. He fell face first into his pizza.” 

“ _ Keith _ .” 

“Sendak was so drunk, he could hardly stand up,” Keith said, not stopping. “I aimed the gun at his head, then I decided he didn’t deserve quick. I remember how he screamed when I lit the house on fire that night.” 

Dr. Balmera stared at him shakily. “Keith, what you did was out of self-defense–.” 

“I enjoyed every second, Dr. Balmera.” Keith stood and faced her. “Why did you tell Shiro I wasn’t taking my medication? I’m not a professional but I’m pretty sure that’s not his business.” He kept his voice calm despite seething inside. 

“How did you know that?”

He considered giving her some metaphor about being God but he didn’t have time for games. “I could have your license.” 

“Keith, how did you know– are you  _ spying _ on Mr. Shirogane?” she asked, her eyes widening. 

“But I’ll have this instead.” Keith pulled out his gun to aim at her. 

Two shots.

Two shots and her secretary rushed in but Keith added a third shot and one more body. 

Once the room was still, Keith calmly walked over to Dr. Balmera’s desk and peered down at her body slumped on the floor. She wasn’t dead so one more bullet in her skull quickly ended her tirade against him. 

He walked out calmly, shooting her secretary one more time in the back of the head just in case, and returned to his vehicle. Keith sat behind the wheel and thought he would feel remorse but he felt nothing at all. No remorse, no sympathy, just numbing anger. 

Jaw set, Keith drove back to his apartment to wait.

He had a date tonight.

 

* * *

 

Shiro was readying for his date. 

Keith didn’t know who Shiro was going out with as he had yet to drop that little detail but he did know Shiro was going to Cosmic Pizza in twenty minutes to meet his date. Of all of the things, Keith thought Shiro capable of in a relationship, cheating had not been on the list. Keith’s jaw popped and he continuously ground his teeth together in annoyance while his fingers drummed against the desk.

Shiro had a date. 

No. 

_ They _ had a date. 

Keith stood up to pull on a quick ensemble of black jeans and a black hoodie. He tied his messy hair back and shoved it inside his baseball cap and made sure to have his phone and camera. He didn’t know when their date would end or where it would go but he was prepared to take damning evidence. 

His anger fueled him when he followed Shiro to Cosmic Pizza, his eyes scanning the room for Shiro and his date. He spotted Shiro first, sitting nervously across from a guy, his face already flushed. Keith crept around the room and sat down in a booth so he could watch them but from the angle he had to sit, Keith couldn’t find a good view of Shiro’s date’s face. He would have to go to the bathroom and come out to see who Shiro was currently giggling over. 

Keith didn’t like how easily his date made Shiro laugh.

His jaw clicked again and Keith stood to go into the bathroom to collect his nerves for a moment. He had to stay quiet and subtle – he couldn’t run up to their table despite how badly he wanted to so he could  _ demand _ to know why Shiro had the nerve to cheat on him. He stared at himself in the mirror and saw his eyes had dark circles beneath them making him look as if he’d thrown on smudged eyeliner – not a good look but Shiro kept him awake most of the time. 

Deep breaths in and out, Keith slowly turned to exit the bathroom so he could see Shiro’s date firsthand. His eyes fell on dark hair and a sharp jawline he recognized. Keith’s eyes widened when he realized who he was staring at – older but still just as handsome as he had been in high school. No, more so.

James Griffin had grown up  _ well _ . 

Keith stared in complete shock, a deer caught in high beam headlights when he realized James Griffin was sitting across the table from Shiro. Of all of the people he’d pictured Shiro dating, James had not been one of them. He swallowed a lump forming in his throat as his mind tripped backward to high school and James shoving him to the ground of a bonfire party. Calling him a freak for kissing him. 

Yet, here he was now a few years later being a complete hypocrite. 

Keith almost didn’t walk away, standing completely still to watch their date, but he knew eventually James would notice so he returned to his seat to take photos on his phone. The pizza he ordered was brought out but Keith hardly touched any of it, only eating a few bites to seem as if he belonged there. When James and Shiro finally left, Keith slammed enough cash on the table to cover his pizza and then followed quickly to dash in the shadows. 

James walked Shiro up to his car to show the beast off – nicer than Shiro’s car, the model was some new, futuristic-looking sports car. Keith couldn’t hear their voices clearly but he had to stay far enough to take photos and not appear conspicuous. James seemed a little too friendly with Shiro on a first date, his hands on Shiro’s waist, pressing up against the door of the car.

A kiss. 

James tilted his head up and they kissed – briefly because Shiro quickly pulled away and shook his head. He looked apologetic but Keith felt a slight thrill as James’ advances were denied. James, undeterred, smiled and laughed it all off. Keith continued to snap enough photos to make a flipbook. Maybe he would cut James out of the photos and put himself in as a keepsake. 

Keith slowly eased toward his car to slide inside so he was ready to follow them at the ready. Shiro went into his own car and he pulled out first with James following. Keith noticed quickly they were heading back to the apartment complex so he fell back a bit so they didn’t notice his car following. By the time Keith was walking up the stairs to his apartment, James and Shiro were pressed up against Shiro’s door and they were kissing again. This time, the kiss was heated and clearly headed somewhere. 

Keith dropped his keys on purpose, allowing them to smack hard into the wooden planks below his feet. 

Shiro startled and James pulled away to turn and face their intruder. Keith stared at them and slowly bent to pick up his keys. “Sorry,” he said, his voice as cold as he felt on the inside. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

James’ face remained neutral until his eyes filled with recognition. Shiro blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Hey, Keith,” Shiro said slowly. “Sorry– uh, we’ll take this inside.” 

James said nothing so Keith eased his way into his apartment without another word. Rage made him want to rip heads off of bodies but he walked back to his bedroom to wait for James and Shiro to go into Shiro’s apartment. He didn’t want to watch Shiro have sex with James but he also wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity of watching Shiro have sex. 

“Oh my God, I can’t believe your neighbor is Keith Kogane,” James said as the door shut behind them. 

“You know Keith?” 

“Yeah,” James laughed a little. “Fuck. I can’t believe that… Fuck, man, watch your back around that kid.” 

Shiro turned to face James as they came into the living room. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean he’s…” James twirled his finger by his temple. “Always has been. I mean, unless he’s gotten  _ serious  _ help since I saw him last.” 

Shiro’s frown deepened. “Um, well, Keith’s been nothing but nice to me.” 

“Yeah, well, I’d watch yourself. Seriously. He’s… He’s really crazy.” James slowly sat down on Shiro’s couch and Shiro joined him. “He was  _ obsessed _ with me in high school. It was terrifying.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Keith’s stomach clenched as he realized how James was going to spread lies about him. Of course, James had always  _ been _ a liar. 

“So, I was dating this guy in high school, Ryan Kinkade, we were pretty hot and heavy, right? Everyone knew we were together but… Keith… Keith had this crush on me. I remember one of my friends telling me Keith used to  _ draw _ us together. Like as a couple. And he carried around these disposable cameras and he would snap pictures of me all the time.” 

“He stalked you?” Shiro asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah, he did,” James said with a snort. “We went to this party… a bonfire party… and uh, I was with my boyfriend at the time. Kinkade was getting us drinks when Keith walked up to me. He grabbed my face and he just… He kissed me. Out of nowhere. Like full on tongue in my mouth kiss, right? So, I’m pissed, and I shove him to the ground– I admit, I said some messed up shit to him but I was really mad. Called him a freak… I just wanted him to leave me alone.” 

“Did he?” Shiro asked.

“ _ No _ . He only amped it up. I started… I started to get these  _ packages _ at my house. From my Amazon wishlist, right? I thought my friends were doing it as a joke. Like every few days, I’d get new stuff, and I kept asking my friends if they bought stuff for me–.” 

“You… were getting packages?” Shiro asked slowly. 

“Yeah. It was freaky, you know?” James ran a hand through his hair. “Anyway, I finally found out it was Keith because one day, I come home from football practice, and I go upstairs and I’m about to take a shower. Down to my fucking boxers, okay? I turn around and… he’s  _ there _ . He was  _ in my room _ . He’d been hiding under my fucking bed.” 

Shiro’s jaw dropped and he stared at James as if he’d grown a few heads. “Keith… Jesus Christ.” 

“I freaked out on him. I thought, holy fuck, he’s going to fucking kill me. He asked me if I liked my presents and he begged me to date him. Begged. He was crying, saying he loved me more than anything in the world and he would do anything to be mine. I told him if he didn’t fucking get out of my house I was going to call the cops or kill him, whichever came first.”

Keith took a few deep breaths, his hands shaking where they rested on his keyboard. He wanted to cross the hall and strangle James Griffin until his lips turned blue. Stalking James Griffin would have been a pointless waste of his time and he didn’t know why James felt the need to  _ lie _ to Shiro about their perceived relationship. He’d had a crush on James, yes, but he also remembered James liking him  _ back _ . 

Too afraid to come out of the closet James had rejected him.

Now, he was spreading  _ more _ slander. They had been out of high school for three years but James couldn’t stop lying. Keith almost felt sorry for him but then he remembered he was helping Shiro cheat. 

“Did he leave?” Shiro asked quietly. 

“Yeah. He left. Was all upset and asked me why I didn’t want him. I told him because he was fucking  _ nuts _ . He left me alone after that and the last time I saw him was at graduation. I’m just glad he didn’t go postal and kill me.” James shook his head and took a sip of the drink Shiro had brought him. “Look, I'm not trying to make you afraid of your neighbor, I’d just… watch your back.”

“He is in therapy,” Shiro said slowly. 

“That’s good. Maybe he’s  _ finally _ getting the help he fucking needed in high school.” 

“Yes,” Shiro whispered, his eyes face far off and distant. “Perhaps he is.”

“Anyway, did that kill the mood?” James asked with a soft laugh. “Sorry.” 

“Just a little but that’s probably a good thing anyway. I don’t want to move too fast… Really, I’m still trying to recover from a seven-year break up.” Shiro set his cup down. “Thank you for being so nice, though.” 

“Yeah. Thank you for finally agreeing to go out with me.” James leaned over to kiss Shiro again. The kiss was slow and intimate and Keith felt every bit of it grating under his skin. 

He was moments from snapping but finally, James pulled back and Shiro walked him to the door. When James was gone, Shiro returned to his apartment and seemed to start panicking, going through his notes and belongings.

“Don’t believe him,” Keith whispered desperately. “Please.” 

Shiro was talking quietly to himself and Keith couldn’t hear him. He looked panicked, afraid, and manic. Tears streamed down Keith’s face quietly in a rush and he made a quick decision. He was up on his feet, packing a bag with the gun, a large hunting knife, and his smaller knife he’d used on Matt before rushing back out to his car to follow James home.

James would no longer be allowed to spread rumors about him again. 

James lived in a quiet neighborhood with a perfectly trimmed tree on every street corner and matching, black iron street lamps to light their path. He pulled into the driveway of a nice house and Keith wondered if James had roommates. If he didn’t live alone, this would not be easy but Keith was always up for a challenge. He parked his car a few houses down and slowly walked up to the house to mark its perimeter. A backdoor drew his attention. 

Keith approached and tested the handle. 

Unlocked.

He snorted at the high hubris of the rich. Living in a safe neighborhood didn’t mean leaving your doors unlocked but Keith thanked his blessings and eased inside. The back door led straight to the kitchen but the house was dark as he slowly walked inside, holding the smaller knife in hand. He followed a hallway to the living room and looked around, listening for sounds of James. 

He could hear movement upstairs but James wasn’t talking to anyone so maybe he was alone. 

Keith took a few more steps and debated going upstairs when James suddenly appeared on the stairs, coming down them holding a bowl in his hand. He froze when they made eye contact, Keith standing just feet away. 

“Holy fucking shit,” James gasped. “Keith?!” 

Keith tilted his head back a little, looking James over in his boxers and t-shirt. “You really shouldn’t have told Shiro all those lies,” he said quietly. 

“Lies– they weren’t  _ lies _ . How the  _ fuck _ did you get in here?!” 

“Your back door was unlocked.” Keith tsked and let his knife catch in the light as he regarded the blade. Sharp. A dull blade was useless. “You really shouldn’t do that, you know. You never know what kind of  _ crazies  _ lurk in the area.” 

“Get  _ out _ of my house, Kogane,” James growled. “Right now or I call the cops.” 

“I just… I didn’t want to do this, you know. I didn’t want to  _ have  _ to do this but you’re helping my boyfriend cheat on me and you told him  _ lies _ about me.” 

“Wait– how- how did you even  _ know _ what I said to Shiro tonight? Holy  _ fuck _ , are you spying on him? Christ, Keith. You have fucking flipped your lid. Get the fuck out!” James pointed to the front door but Keith had no intention of going anywhere. 

He took a step forward and watched James take a step back. “Do you still workout, James?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I said, do you still workout? Run? Play sports? Cardio?” Keith kept his tone casual. He liked when his prey felt afraid and confused. 

“Yes. Why?” 

“Good. I like challenges.” Keith lunged across the space and James’ eyes grew wide as he realized Keith intended to chase him. James turned to run up the stairs, throwing the bowl at Keith but missed in his panic. James’ socks slipped on the stairs and he felt halfway up them, sliding back down a few and Keith was there, standing over him, his hand in James’ hair and the knife to his throat.

“Wait– Keith, wait, please, I’ll– I’ll leave Shiro alone. I won’t– I won’t see him again. You can delete his number from my phone, fuck,  _ please _ ,” James begged, his voice breaking and cracking in complete fear. “Just let me go, man. I’m sorry I said that shit about you, I shouldn’t have fucking told him. Fuck. Fuck. Just let me go.” 

“You lied to him and you made him  _ cheat _ on me,” Keith growled, pressing the blade harder into James’ throat until he cried out and started to sob. Keith could smell piss and hear it soak into the carpet. 

Part of him wanted to slit James’ throat and end it here but another part of him wanted to drag his death out. Make him  _ pay _ for humiliating him in high school and denying his affections in front of people. For mocking him, calling him a fag, and for lying to Shiro and making Shiro afraid of him. 

Making Shiro  _ doubt _ him.

Keith grabbed James by his hair and dragged him upstairs while James kicked and screamed but there was no one else home. Keith took James to the bathroom and turned the water in the bathtub on. He shoved James into the corner and removed his gun. He kept it trained on James, where he sat afraid, shaking and sobbing, still quietly begging for Keith to leave him alone. Keith waited for the tub to fill before putting the gun down and grabbing James’ hair and shoving him under the water to hold him there. 

James struggled, thrashing around, trying to kick and slap Keith away but Keith only pulled him free when he knew he’d been under almost too long. James gasped for air, blinking water from his eyes and coughing up even more.

“Keith, please,” James whispered but with the words, Keith shoved him back under. 

He dunked James twenty times until he was half drowned and exhausted, too tired to fight, and Keith grew bored. James lay on his stomach, coughing up more water, while Keith grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him over the water one more time. James took a deep breath but instead of shoving him back under the water, Keith placed his knife on James’ throat and cut the blade in deep. He dragged the knife hard into his flesh, cutting his throat wide open and letting the blood spray and pour into the bathtub and on the shower walls.

He didn’t want James to die a quick or humane death. 

Keith stared at all of the blood, an abstract painting on the white tile while he waited for James to die. Once he went still, Keith dropped his body into the water, letting him lie half in the tub and half out before leaving. Keith didn’t care his boots tracked blood in the house, he didn’t care his clothes and hands were stained and soaked with water. He didn’t care about anything except going home and repairing his relationship with Shiro. 

He drove home quietly, the knife sitting on his passenger’s seat, and left it there when he went upstairs to Shiro’s apartment. His eyes fell on Shiro’s door and then noted his own apartment door was wide open. He frowned and realized he hadn’t actually locked his door when he left. He slowly went inside and down the hall, curious as to his intruder, when he found Shiro standing in his bedroom facing the mural of photographs Keith had collected and printed out for his own amusement. 

“Shiro.” 

Shiro startled and turned around to face him, his eyes wide, his hand on his chest. “Keith… What  _ is _ this?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Keith asked as he shut and locked the door. 

Shiro backed up further, his face a mask of fear. “Keith…” 

“Shiro, I  _ love _ you and I will never give up on you. On  _ us _ . You’re my everything. I won’t treat you poorly like Adam and I will be better than him. I promise.” 

“Keith… Keith, please, you’re sick. Let me help you.” Shiro gulped and seemed so visibly afraid but Keith approached Shiro calmly and casually picked up a taser he had sitting on a shelf. 

“I love you, Takashi Shirogane. We’re going to be  _ so _ happy together.” Keith pressed the taser against Shiro and watched the electricity shock him and bring him falling back to his haunches. Keith smiled softly.   

“Keith, please, don’t do this!” 

“I’m sorry about this next part but you’re mine now,” he whispered and brought his hand hard down on Shiro’s temple.


	7. Chapter 7

Shiro looked so peaceful unconscious, almost as if he were sleeping, but as soon as his eyes started to open Keith pulled up a chair to sit across from him. The bedroom of his apartment was soundproof but Shiro didn’t know that. Shiro’s eyes slowly opened and he looked around to gain his bearings. Keith remained still on his seat, the gun resting in his hand. 

“Rise and shine,” Keith cooed when Shiro finally met his gaze.

“Keith…?” Shiro grunted and quickly realized he was tied to a chair. He tugged and pulled but Keith had tied the rope tight enough so he couldn’t just wiggle free. “Keith, what are you doing?” 

“You know, Shiro, I worked so  _ hard _ to create this life for us but you just kept  _ shitting _ on it,” Keith whispered and stood to start pacing. “Cheating on me, constantly putting me down, hurting me, mistreating me… I’m just so  _ tired _ of how you’ve been acting.”

Shiro frowned, his brows pinching in confusion. “What are you  _ talking _ about?” 

Anger pulsated through Keith and he backhanded Shiro hard across the mouth. Shiro gasped and Keith immediately reached to soothe the pain away with gentle fingers. “I’m  _ talking _ about this relationship! I know everything about you, Shiro! I  _ love _ you. I love you so much.” 

Shiro looked up at him, his eyes colder than any ice. “This isn’t love, Keith.”

“Yes, it is.” Keith knelt down in front of Shiro, holding the gun casually as he spoke. “I’ve been watching you, watching you live your life and seeing where I can so easily fit in. Even our movie collection would be complete once we have our own home to call ours.” 

“Keith–.” 

“No, let me talk. You talk  _ so _ much, Shiro, and you never let me speak.” Keith shoved a finger against Shiro’s lips to silence him. “You’re a Pisces, your birthday is February 29, you’re a psychology student, you love mac and cheese, you have the ugliest cat I’ve ever seen, and your ex is out of the picture. There’s nothing holding you back from  _ finally _ committing to me.” 

Shiro’s eyes narrowed. “You know a lot about me, don’t you, Keith?”

“Yes. I know everything. I know how you fold your underwear and how you keep your bathroom  _ disgusting _ , we’ll have to discuss that, and how you like health food and the grocery stores you shop in. I know you had a date with James Griffin, who by the way, is a fucking  _ liar _ . I did not  _ stalk _ him–.” 

“How did you know he told me that?” Shiro whispered. “How do you know any of this?”

“I told you.” Keith reached up to stroke Shiro’s face gently. “I’ve been watching you. Every day.” He stood to walk over and show Shiro his laptop. “See? Keeping an eye on you. Keeping you safe.” Keith felt the energy switch as Shiro looked sickened and terrified but he set his laptop aside gently and returned to petting Shiro’s face. 

“Keith…” Shiro said, his voice strained with distress. “You’ve been spying on me? Watching me? You’re  _ sick _ .”

“ _ No _ !” Keith yelled and gripped Shiro’s throat tight in one hand. He squeezed until Shiro gasped. “I’m not  _ sick _ . Don’t you  _ fucking _ say that! I’m fine!” 

Shiro attempted to say his name but Keith cut off his airway until he was satisfied and let Shiro breathe again. He drew in deep, ragged breaths, and stared up at Keith in utmost fear. The kind of fear prey had for their predator. The kind of fear a dying man has when he sees his death. “Keith, please,” Shiro whispered. “Let’s… let’s talk about this. You– you know  _ so _ much about me, right? But if this is a relationship… then… I need to know a lot about you. Let’s talk about you.” 

Keith frowned, immediately suspicious. “What about me?”

“How about you untie me and we can talk about this,” Shiro said, his eyes training to the gun in Keith’s hands. 

“Do you really think I’ll fall for that?” Keith snarled. “You’re a liar Takashi Shirogane. I hate liars. And cheaters.” 

“I’m… I’m  _ sorry _ , Keith. I’m sorry I hurt you but please untie me. I want to discuss this with you. I want to get to know you,” Shiro continued. “Please. Just untie me.” 

Keith regarded Shiro for a while, his eyes trailing over his body and he knew Shiro was fit – he could overtake him and then it would be over. He also knew the room was soundproof and no one would hear Shiro scream and he had the gun. 

“Keith… please.” Shiro gave him the most innocent of looks and Keith felt himself cave. 

“If you try anything, I’ll fucking kill you,” Keith snarled. “I will fucking make you hurt  _ so _ bad, Shiro. My patience is thin as it is.” Keith approached and went to stand behind Shiro to cut the rope free. He felt Shiro tense and then relax as he slowly rubbed feeling in his arms. He placed the gun on the back of Shiro’s head as insurance. 

“Keith, there’s no need for violence,” Shiro whispered. “Let’s talk about this. About us– you’ve been in this relationship a lot longer than I have. I didn’t  _ know _ and now I know, so let’s just… discuss it. What exactly is your plan?” 

Keith frowned but slowly went to stand in front of Shiro, still keeping the gun on him in case he moved out of line. “I took care of everything,” he said. “Adam, James, Matt. There’s no one left but me and our love.” 

Keith watched the color drain from Shiro’s face and his eyes filled with tears. “What?” he gasped. 

“Don’t you see, Shiro? I have your best interests at heart! Adam was upsetting you, stressing you, trying to  _ weasel _ his way back into your life… I took care of that for you. I’m a _ good _ boyfriend,” Keith said. He could hear himself starting to panic due to Shiro’s lack of belief in him but he did his best to tamp it back down. 

“You… took care of it?” Shiro asked slowly. “Where is Adam, Keith?”

“Dead. I killed him weeks ago. Shot in between the eyes.” Keith pressed the muzzle of the gun to Shiro’s forehead. “Bang.” 

“ _ Christ _ !” Shiro flinched and turned his face away. “And… and Matt?’

“Dead. Stabbed him in the neck.” Keith pressed the gun to Shiro’s neck where he’d stabbed Matt.

“Oh my God… and you just– you just  _ left _ him there?!” Shiro turned sharp eyes on him and looked as if he were ready to stand up but the gun pressing to his forehead kept him in his seat. “You are a fucking sick son of a bitch, Keith. What about James? What did you do to him?” 

“Also dead,” Keith said with a shrug. “He deserved it for lying.”

“He wasn’t lying, Keith. You stalked him just like you’re stalking me. You’re insane.” Shiro spat the words like poison and Keith heard himself cocking the gun which immediately put Shiro back in his place. “Keith–.” 

“I love you, Shiro,” Keith whispered. “But I will not tolerate you mistreating me any longer. I’ve been a good friend and boyfriend for you. I’ve bought you things, which you’ve returned. I’ve taken care of your problems and stress. I’ve been there for you through  _ everything _ and this is how you repay me?”

Shiro’s breathing started to quicken as he panicked. “Keith, please, just let me go. I won’t say anything to the cops, just let me leave.”

“No.” 

“ _ Keith _ , if you really love me like you say you do then you’ll  _ let me go _ .” 

“ _ No _ ,” Keith snarled, pulling the gun back away from Shiro’s face. Panic swelled in his chest and he started to pace. “I love you! I love you more than anything, Shiro! You’re my everything! You saved me, we saved  _ each other _ . We’re perfect for one another! Why can’t you see that?! Why can’t you just notice me?! What did I do  _ wrong _ ?!” 

The last words came out in a desperate screech, Keith’s panic and anxiety smacking hard through the roof and sending his mind into overdrive. He’d done everything right. He’d wooed Shiro and loved Shiro and watched over Shiro until his eyes had bled. He’d taken care of Shiro’s problems. He’d crafted a life for them and still had a plan to whisk Shiro away as long as he cooperated. 

“Keith,” Shiro said, his voice shaking with emotion. “Listen to me. You’re ill. You need  _ help _ . I can get you help if you’d just  _ let _ me assist you but I can’t help you if you won’t admit that you need help.” 

“I don’t need help,” Keith insisted. “I had medication but I don’t need it. It makes me sick.” 

“Then you just need an adjustment, that’s all. Keith,  _ please _ , let me help you.” Shiro held up his hands but didn’t move from the chair. “Then we can discuss having a relationship but you need to get help first before we can even  _ attempt _ to be together.” 

Keith shook his head, still pacing the width of his room, tears streaming down his face. He waved the gun with hand gestures, wishing Shiro would just accept him for him. “I want you to love me as I am. I’m not sick.”

“Keith, you  _ are _ sick.” 

“No! Stop it! Stop it!” Keith turned and shoved the gun back in Shiro’s face. “Stop it!” 

“Keith–.” Shiro held up his hands in self-defense even if they both knew it would do nothing if Keith pulled the trigger. “What exactly are you planning to do? What do you want me to do?” 

“You’re coming away with me,” Keith hissed. “The cops know I killed Adam or they suspect it now but that doesn’t mean I can’t stay a step ahead of them.”

“Where are you thinking we’re going?” Shiro asked. 

“California.” 

“What’s in California?” 

Keith smiled. “Our new life.”

“Keith, I'm a student,” Shiro whispered. “People will notice I'm gone. They’ll come looking for me.” 

“For a while but how will they even know where you’ve gone?” Keith replied quietly. “I mean, you’re an adult, adults go  _ missing _ all the time.” 

Shiro’s eyes darted to the door behind Keith and back to the gun in his hand. “Keith, please, just let me go.” 

“You haven’t screamed yet,” Keith whispered. “Why?” 

Shiro took a deep breath and looked up at him. “Excuse me?” 

“Why haven’t you called for help yet? Are you so sure you don’t want to come with me? Hm?” Keith pressed the gun to Shiro’s jawline tilting his head back casually. “Maybe you really do love me after all.” Keith smiled and turned away for a moment to grab a bag from the bed. They were almost ready to leave and he needed to pick up his camera bag. 

The moment Keith turned wast he moment Shiro darted from the chair and sprinted for the door. Keith sighed and dropped the bag to the ground before going after Shiro, grabbing the back of his shirt and dragging him to the floor. They wrestled with Keith on top of Shiro, pinning him down, until Keith realized too late Shiro had a pocket knife. He stabbed Keith in the thigh which was enough to send Keith backward. 

Shiro kicked the gun away from Keith’s hands and shoved him down into the floor, his hands wrapped around Keith’s neck squeezing as hard as he could. “This isn’t love Keith,” Shiro growled. “You’re sick.” 

“Shiro,” Keith gasped, his eyes widening as he held onto Shiro’s wrists to try and relieve the pressure on his windpipe. “I…  _ love… _ you.” 

Shiro snarled and continued to squeeze Keith’s throat. “Give in, Keith. Give up.” 

Keith scrambled with his hand to wrap his fingers around the fallen gun. His vision became spotty and his fingers slackened but he felt them grip the cold metal just enough to drag the gun across the floor and smack Shiro in the side of the head. Shiro gasped and stumbled away, allowing Keith to drag precious oxygen back into his lungs.

He sat up straight, hacking and coughing as he remembered how to breathe properly. Shiro sat leaning against the wall of the bedroom, his hand pressed to the side of his head. Keith took advantage of Shiro being disoriented and dragged himself up to his feet, gun in hand. He aimed it steadily at Shiro’s head. 

“You’re coming with me, Shiro,” Keith hissed. “And that’s final.” 

“Shoot me,” Shiro replied darkly. “I’d rather fucking die here than go anywhere with you.” 

Keith’s feelings snapped in half and he was tempted to pull the trigger but he didn’t want to see the life fade from Shiro’s eyes. He loved Shiro too much to end his life even if the pain was so great. “No,” he replied quietly. “You’re mine. Forever.”

“How long do you think you can keep that up, Keith? How long before the police come and arrest you? How long before you decide to murder me and then kill yourself to avoid going to jail?” Shiro’s voice was flat and monotone while he sat still and quiet by the bedroom door. “How long before the ruse is over and the life you’ve crafted for us crumbles like a sandcastle?” 

“I have time,” Keith argued. He knew they lived on borrowed time but he’d already made a plan, they just needed to execute it. “I have plenty of time. Now, come with me the easy way or the hard way, Shiro.” 

“You won’t take me alive, Keith,” Shiro whispered. “You’ll have to kill me or drug me.” 

Keith thought on the ketamine he had purchased a few months ago just in case this situation arose. He thought of how it would be easier if Shiro was more agreeable. “That can be arranged,” he replied darkly. “Besides, I have a stop to make.” 

  
  


* * *

 

Drugging Shiro was the easiest option. Dosing him with Ketamine allowed Keith to walk Shiro down to the van and put him in the back, retying him up as he did, and climbing into the front. Once Shiro was secured, Keith made his way back upstairs to Shiro’s apartment and used the spare key to let himself inside. His eyes roamed over Shiro’s clean living space, taking in the smell of baked goods one last time, while he felt energy run down his spine and tingle his fingers. 

He had to make it look believable. 

Systematically, Keith walked around the apartment and knocked things over, letting them fall and break with little care for their value. He knocked chairs down, broke glass, and made sure Shiro’s belongings were strewn around the area. Black wandered out at the noise and he reached down to lift her by the scruff. She growled at him and Keith felt tempted to finally see if cats really did land on their feet. He hated Shiro’s cat but he knew Shiro would never forgive him for taking away the life of his precious baby so he dropped her back down on the floor and continued through the apartment. 

Keith ignored the guest bathroom in favor of going back to Shiro’s bedroom and standing in the doorway, eyes on the bed. He’d never had a chance to really lie on the bed and enjoy it so he took a moment to cross the room and sit down on the edge. His fingers caressed the bedspread and picked up Shiro’s pillow to drag in the scent of Shiro’s shampoo and body. Now, Shiro would be his forever and he would have Shiro to smell at any time he wanted.

He set the pillow back down and started to knock more belongings down in Shiro’s room. His eyes fell on the desktop and he grabbed something heavy to slam into the screen, cracking it down the middle. It flickered to life even after breaking the screen and he saw Adam had returned as Shiro’s background. His eyes narrowed at the sight and suddenly the destruction became more personal. 

If Shiro missed Adam, Keith would make sure the police truly believed the next steps of his plan. Keith destroyed everything in Shiro’s bedroom and bathroom. He even broke the bathroom mirror and left the glass shattered all over the sink and floor. He left the bedroom behind and went to the kitchen leave a note on a notepad, scrawling the words in his rage. 

_ He deserved it _

Keith underlined the words several times and left the note behind. Black hissed at him one more time but Keith ignored her, instead going for the front door and giving it several kicks before leaving it open. The noise would draw 911 and the cops would come running since they already suspected him of Adam’s murder – why not another? 

Keith returned to the van and slid inside, driving away from the apartment complex, and headed toward the self-storage units. The passcode let him inside the gate and Keith even made sure to look at the security cameras as he drove in. 

Locker 312. 

Keith backed the van up against the storage unit and climbed out to open the door. His eyes fell onto the freezer inside and felt a chill run down his spine. He glanced back at the van doors and smirked a little. The freezer was large enough to hold a body, crumpled in on itself, even someone as large as Shiro. He imagined the look on Iverson’s face when he opened the top and laughed. The sound was loud in the almost empty space and he clamped a hand over his mouth to stop the noise from echoing too much. 

He wondered how long it would take to freeze an entire body.

A day? Two days? An hour? 

Keith walked over to the freezer and lifted the top, cold air wafting up into his face. The sensation tingled his skin and left his flesh tender but he turned back to the van. He still had work to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost free now


	8. Epilogue

“Sir, I have a woman on the phone who says her neighbor’s been killed. She hadn’t seen him come out in a few days and saw his back door was open. Found him upstairs in the bathroom tub, throat slit open end to end.”

Iverson sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered. “How many does that make now?” 

“Well, we’ve got Adam Grant, presumed dead. We’ve got Dr. Shay Balmera and her secretary. We’ve got Takashi Shirogane, possibly dead, reported missing. We’ve got Matthew Holt, murdered. And now we have… James Griffin. Murdered,” Officer McClain continued. “That’s a lot of bodies, Sir.” 

“Yeah,” Iverson muttered. He turned his eyes back to the crime scene photos of Shay Balmera’s body. She’d been found that night by the cleaning lady and after reviewing the security footage of the waiting room, Iverson had found Keith Kogane had gone in for twenty minutes before hearing gunshots on the tape, and then he’d seen her secretary rush in but not back out. Two more gunshots and then Keith Kogane left. 

It was the only footage evidence they had of Keith committing any type of crime. 

“Sir, on the sweep of Takashi Shirogane’s apartment, we found this.” Lance held up a plastic bag with a note inside. 

Iverson snatched the baggie and saw  _ He deserved it _ written by presumably Keith. “I’ll be fucking damned,” Iverson said. “What else you got for me, McClain?”

“Well, we checked Keith’s credit card records and most transactions seem to be fairly normal. Porn. Groceries. But then we found he went to Sears a week ago and made a large purchase. Send a couple of officers to investigate and we found the guy who sold him a deep chest freezer. He  _ also _ then went and rented a storage locker.”

Iverson perked up. “Where?” 

“Not too far from here. Locker 312. We already have a warrant and a search unit down there right now.” 

“Let’s go.” Iverson stood and rushed from the station to his patrol car. 

“Sir,” Lance said as they rushed down to the storage units. “Do you think he’s…. Toying with us? It seems unlike his pattern to buy things on his credit card so obviously–.” 

“No, McClain. He’s not that smart. He’s managed to stay a step ahead but not for long.” Iverson shook his head. He remembered the day he’d first seen Keith Kogane and had immediately felt chills run down his spine. The guy had given him an immediate sense of dread but he couldn’t place why since Mr. Shirogane had seemed to trust him so willingly.  

But now he knew the truth. 

Keith Kogane is a dangerous son of a bitch. 

“But, Sir–.” 

“He killed Mr. Shirogane and he put him in that freezer. He screwed up. Probably was losing his shit by the end, see it a lot with newer killers.” Iverson pulled up to where they were just starting to open the locker. 

“If you say so,” Lance muttered but Iverson was already out of the patrol car and walking up to the door. 

He held up his badge to the owner. “I’m Detective Iverson, I’m the head investigator on this case.”

The man nodded and opened the locker door. Iverson turned his gaze on the solitary freezer, quietly humming in the space. HIs stomach tied into excited knots as he realized they finally had the son of a bitch. All of this looking and investigating and Kogane had finally slipped just enough to land him with real evidence.

They had Dr. Balmera and her secretary but if they could prove Keith had premeditated Takashi Shirogane’s murder, they could tie him back to  _ every _ other murder as well. Iverson crossed the floor and pulled on gloves. The room was silent, quieter than a funeral when Iverson lifted the chest door. Cold frosted air billowed like smoke and he waved it aside, his eyes widening at the inside of the freezer’s contents.

“Sir?” Lance asked. “Is… is he in there?” 

Iverson slowly reached in and picked up another piece of paper sitting on the bottom of the freezer. Written in a familiar scrawl were words Iverson knew would haunt him for the rest of his life.

 

_ Made you look.  _

“Sir?” Lance asked again. 

Iverson crumpled the paper up in his rage and screamed his frustration. Everyone flinched but he turned back around and stormed out of the locker. “That son of a  _ fucking bitch _ !” Iverson roared.

Lance went to pick up the crumpled note. “Wow,” Lance whispered. “Where do you think he went?”

Iverson ran a hand through his hair, stress making him gray even further. Keith Kogane was going to send him to an early grave. “I don’t know,” he whispered in defeat. “I have no fucking clue.” 

Keith Kogane had played him and Iverson hated admitting defeat. 

“We’ll find him, Sir,” Lance said. “He’ll slip up eventually.”

Iverson hated Keith Kogane more than he hated any other criminal he’d been chasing for his entire career. He was too smart, too calculated, and too unpredictable. “How?” he asked. “How can we find him? We don’t even know where he would take that man. We don’t even know if Shirogane is dead.”

“Should we go back to the apartment? Do another sweep? Maybe there’s clues–.” 

“No,” Iverson muttered. “He set us up. He made it seem like someone broke into Shirogane’s apartment, kidnapped him, and brought him here for murder. He set us all up. Making us look like fucking fools.” 

Lance sighed. “Have we checked into Mr. Shirogane’s family?”

Iverson nodded. “I contacted his brother. Hasn’t seen him in over two years.”

“What about Keith’s family?” 

“Doesn’t have any. They’re all dead.” 

Lance gave him an unsure look. “I’m… I’m sorry, I’m out of ideas.” 

Iverson glared over at the freezer. Of course, Lance had been right. Keith had played into their hands and knew exactly what they would have looked for – they even had the bastard on the self-storage security cameras. “Son of a bitch.” 

 

* * *

  
  


California was a lot warmer than the East Coast. 

Keith drummed his fingers along the steering wheel of his new car, eyes watching as people came and went from the tattoo shop. He had a wad of cash in his pocket and he’d debated on what he wanted to ink all day. He didn’t like needles but he finally managed to talk himself into leaving his car and crossing the street to the tattoo shop. 

_ Rising Tides _ . 

A man with long hair, a shock of white in the front of his bangs, and a scruffy jaw stood behind the counter, singing along to some rock and roll song Keith didn’t know. He was sketching in a sketchbook when Keith approached. 

“Hi,” Keith said and the man looked up. His eyes startlingly familiar, Keith felt his stomach and heart flutter. “Are you Kuron Shirogane?”

Kuron smiled. “Yeah, that’s me. You looking to get inked?” 

“If you have any walk-ins available. Yes.” Keith smiled back and felt his heart shatter at how beautiful Kuron looked.

“Sure. What are you looking to get done?”

Keith turned his eyes to the flash on the wall and tapped his finger against a simple knife tattoo. “Can you do this one?”

“Sure,” Kuron said. “C’mon back.” 

Keith followed Kuron into the back of the shop, his eyes falling on Kuron’s well-proportioned ass in his tight black jeans. He would look so beautiful and lovely next to Shiro. Kuron had Keith sit down in the chair and Keith rolled up his sleeve, indicating he wanted the tattoo on his forearm.

“So, what brings you in for ink?” Kuron asked while he readied the stencil, tying his hair back in a high ponytail. 

“Just wanted a change,” Keith replied. “New life. New ink.”

“Sounds good,” Kuron chuckled with a smile. “You new to Cali?” 

“Yeah. Not to be nosy but I saw an RV out back when I was searching for the place–.” 

“Yeah,” Kuron laughed. “That’s mine. I like to travel to tattoo conventions and shows in it. I know it’s stupid but I like it. I basically live in it.” 

“Traveling sounds nice,” Keith mused as Kuron placed the stencil and let Keith take a look.

“It can be,” Kuron admitted. “You like how it looks?”

“Yeah.” 

“Good. This your first tattoo?” Kuron asked while he prepared the tattoo gun and ink. 

“Yeah. How’d you know?” Keith asked. 

“You’re stiff and nervous,” Kuron said with a smile. “It’s okay. Everyone has to start somewhere.” 

“I just don’t really like needles,” Keith admitted quietly. “Sorry.” 

“Nah, it’s okay. You know, I didn’t get your name,” Kuron said. 

Keith smiled a little. “My name is Keith.”

“Nice to meet you, Keith. I’m Kuron– but I guess you knew that. My reputation proceeds me or something?” Kuron asked. 

“I know your brother,” Keith admitted. 

“Takashi?”

Keith nodded. “He told me about you.” 

“Wow, surprised he even admitted he had a brother.” Kuron snorted and started to work, giving Keith a test line. “How was that? Not too bad?”

Keith expected excruciating pain but it really felt like little bee stings. Annoying but not unpleasant. “It was fine.” 

“Good. So, you know Takashi, huh? You go to school with him or something?” Kuron asked, working quietly and thoroughly. 

“Or something,” Keith admitted. “I was headed out here and figured I should stop by and see what you were all about. He showed me your work and I was impressed.

“Wow,” Kuron muttered. “ _ I’m _ impressed he did all of that. So unlike him.” 

“Said he hasn’t talked to you in a long time. Hasn't’ seen you even longer.” 

Kuron nodded. “Yeah. We fight a lot.” 

“I’m sorry…. Do you think you guys could make up?” Keith asked, his heart pounding at the thought. 

“Maybe. I don’t know, just depends, I guess.” Kuron shrugged. “Did he send you here to try to make us right again?” He laughed a little. “ _ That _ sounds like Takashi.” 

“No, he doesn’t know I’m here,” Keith said quietly. The thrill of Kuron tattooing him turned him on. Blood rushed between his thighs and knew he was hardening in his jeans. He wanted Kuron to help him out, feel Kuron’s mouth wrapped around his length. 

His mind flashed back to how Shiro had sounded when he’d wrapped his hand around his cock. He wondered if Kuron sounded the same. 

Kuron didn’t comment on Keith’s arousal and kept everything professional. The tattoo was finished in under an hour but Keith left him a large tip. Soon, Keith left the tattoo shop and returned to his car. He checked their hours and knew he’d be back soon.

 

* * *

  
  


The day ended after a long line of clients and Kuron was eager to stretch and head out to the back parking lot. He waved to his coworkers and slowly limped toward the RV. the parking lot was dark in the back alley but Kuron knew his way. He was almost ready to let himself in when he heard a car door open and close. He frowned, his fingers gripped tightly around his keys. 

“Hey,” called a familiar voice.

Kuron turned and saw Keith, the guy he’d tattooed earlier, approach him. “Keith?” he asked. 

Keith smiled. “Sorry to scare you.” 

“What are you doing here? Your tattoo okay?” Kuron kept his distance. In the dark, Keith seemed more frightening with his sharp eyes and white glistening smile.

_ Deadly _ . 

“It’s perfect,” Keith replied, his hand on the bandaged tattoo for a moment. “I came to see you.” 

“What do you want?”

“Your RV is perfect,” Keith mused and stepped closer. Kuron backed up but he had nowhere to go between the RV and Keith. He didn’t like having his back against the RV with nowhere to run. 

“Perfect for what?” Kuron whispered. His heart began to pound heavily in his chest and made his temple throb.

“Building a life. For us.” Keith’s smile widened. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Kuron asked, slowly reaching for the knife he kept on his person. Clearly, Keith was cracked and he wondered if Keith was a patient of Shiro’s instead of a casual friend. He’d kick Takashi’s ass if he sent a crazy person out to California to torture him. 

“You’re so beautiful, Kuron,” Keith mused and before Kuron could stop him he was right in front of him. They were so close, he could smell Keith’s cologne and toothpaste. His fingers fumbled on the knife but Keith slammed a hand and cloth over his mouth before he could. “Beautiful. So beautiful.” 

Kuron’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and the world turned blacker than Keith’s eyes in the dark.

 

* * *

  
  


“Rise and shine.” 

Kuron grunted, his eyes slowly peeling open. For a moment, he didn’t recognize anything but slowly his surroundings registered and he wondered if it had all been a bad dream and he was waking with a hooker in his bed. Kuron jerked awake however when he saw Keith was standing over his bed with a smile on his face. 

“Fuck!  _ You _ , what the hell are you doing?!” He tried to sit up but in raising alarm, Kuron realized he was tied to the bed and couldn’t actually move. He was also naked and there was someone beside him in the bed, too, their back to him. 

“I told you,” Keith crooned. He stroked Kuron’s cheek gently. “Starting our lives together.” 

Kuron moved his gaze nervously to the side and wondered who else Keith had fucking kidnapped. “Who is that?” he whispered. 

Keith smile twisted and the sight made Kuron’s stomach churn. He walked over to the other person – Kuron hoped they were still alive – and gently petted their hair and spoke quietly in their ear. Kuron gulped and watched as they rolled over and suddenly he was staring in a mirror. 

“Takashi,” Kuron whispered in horror. 

Shiro stretched out beside him, also naked, his body covered in scratches, cuts, and scars. His hair was longer and his eyes completely dead. “Kuron,” Shiro replied, his voice as monotone as his look. 

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” Kuron demanded, trying to break free of his bonds but there was no use. “What the hell?!” 

Keith smiled and pressed a kiss to Shiro’s temple and then he leaned over to kiss him, too. “I love you both. A perfect set. Now, we have a long drive ahead of us. I put gas in the RV already and bought us some snacks. Now, if you  _ behave _ , I’ll let you walk around free, but I have a feeling Kuron will take longer to…. Break.” 

Kuron gulped at the implication. “Takashi,” he whispered when Keith turned to go to the front of the RV. “What the fuck is happening? Takashi–.” 

Shiro rolled back over without another word, leaving Kuron with questions and no answers. Whatever Keith had done to his brother, had left him broken and empty. Kuron screamed then, calling for help, but Keith was quickly back in his line of vision and shoving a gun in his mouth. Kuron immediately went silent and felt his bladder empty.

“Shut up,” Keith growled, his eyes dropping to where Kuron had pissed the bed. “Look what you’ve done. Now you get to sit in your own mess until you behave.” He pulled the gun free and grabbed a cloth to shove in Kuron’s mouth instead, almost choking him with it. “No more yelling.” 

Kuron nodded, fear gripping his stomach harder than a vice. He looked back over at Shiro and wished he could reach out to touch his brother. Comfort him. 

“Now,” Keith said with another plastic smile. “How about some music for this road trip?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never felt so free in my entire goddamn life. 
> 
> Thank you for reading everyone! Thank you to Sa, for creating this au to start with and allowing me to take it and twist it further. Thank you all for sticking with it and I hope I didn't disappoint.
> 
> Also, in full disclosure, I have no idea where the comic is going so if it varies that is why :)

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/xenogl0ssia)


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